The Journey Home
by Gatorgal
Summary: When Acting Lieutenant Archie Kennedy returns home to deal with family problems he discovers that not all things, and not all people, are what they seem.
1. Kennedy's Dilemma

**__**

Kennedy's Dilemma

When the _Indefatigable_ finally returned to Portsmouth, her crew was as happy as it was possible for men to be. The disastrous mission in France, as well as the difficult journey home, had strained officer and seaman alike. As the ship had rounded the peninsula of Brittany to enter the Channel, she had run into a massive storm, the likes of which was rarely seen in the waning days of summer. For three days they had fought while rain, wind, and waves had battered the Indy, pushing her off to the southwest and away from her destination. Finally, the storm abated, and they had spent two days beating back towards England.

Upon their arrival, Captain Pellew had immediately gone ashore to report to the Port Admiral. The men and officers on watch had seen the captain's angry, set, and tight-lipped face. Rumor working its way about the ship had it that Pellew was so disgusted with the recent mission, and the Admiralty's handling of matters, that he fully intended to retire then and there. Nobody believed it, however. The captain would never quit like that; he would die in battle, not in his bed.

Acting Lieutenant Kennedy stood at the rail, watching as the captain's boat was rowed to shore. He had asked for, and been granted, permission to travel to his family's estate for a few days while the Indy was re-fitted. He knew that things had been difficult at home since his mother's death eight months previous. His father had retreated to his study, more often than not to drink himself insensible. His older brother was struggling to manage the estate and keep the truth of their father's condition from being known. Reginald had written to his brother, pleading with Archie to return home, even if only for a little while. The letter had been brought on board last night, and now he was going to depart within the hour.

He turned away from the rail to make his way belowdecks to the cabin he shared with his best friend, Lieutenant Hornblower. Since returning to the Indy after the ill-fated mission in France, Hornblower had shut himself away in the cabin except when he was on watch. Kennedy had tried to cheer him out of his despondent mood, but nothing seemed to work. Even the climb to the topsail yardarm had been only momentarily effective. But Kennedy had insisted his friend accompany him. It is always good to see things from a different angle, he had said.

When he reached the cabin Kennedy hesitated before entering. He knew that he would see one of two things; Hornblower lying on his bunk staring at the ceiling, or Hornblower sitting at the table working exercises in navigation. His friend had done little else in the last week. Well, Kennedy told himself, maybe my news will shake him up a bit. And with that thought he pushed open the door and entered their quarters.

As he had suspected, his friend sat at the table, charts and books spread out across it. Hornblower was not working on any problem, however. He sat staring at a point just to the left of the cabin door. His mind was miles away; when Kennedy sat down opposite him he never moved.

Kennedy reached out and lightly touched his friend's arm. "Horatio..."

Hornblower started out of his reverie. "Archie! I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in." He began collecting the papers on the table together. "Has Captain Pellew gone ashore?"

Kennedy sighed as his friend continued to behave as if nothing were wrong. However, he decided that this was not the time to argue about it. "Yes. He left not too long ago. But I spoke to him before..." Kennedy hesitated for a moment. "I have permission to travel home for a few days." He took a deep breath. "I would like you to come with me."

Hornblower did not respond right away. He was absorbed in organizing his papers, and seemed not to have heard Kennedy's request. Eventually the words penetrated his mind, and he stopped what he was doing and looked at Kennedy, an expression of shock on his face.

"You want me to go with you?" A puzzled look replaced the shock on his face. "Why?"

"Because I fear things have gone bad at home. Because I may need help, and I can think of no man I would rather have at my side." Kennedy felt tears prick his eyes. "Because you have been there for me through some very tough times, and I have been there for you. Maybe this is the last thing we will do together, maybe not. But either way, I would like your help."

Hornblower took a deep breath and stared into his friend's earnest blue eyes. He saw nothing there but honesty and affection, and for the first time in their friendship he felt almost inadequate. Kennedy was the son of wealthy parents; not quite nobility, but very respectable landed gentry. He had been pushed into the navy to preserve intact the inheritance for his older brother. Hornblower was the son of a doctor, sent to the navy to make his own way in the world. He had found happiness and a purpose there, but often thought that Kennedy was only marking time.

Now, his friend stood there and asked for help in a problem dealing with his family. What can I do to help, Hornblower asked himself, and a moment later he asked the question out loud.

Kennedy seemed taken aback by the question. It probably never occurred to him to think that Hornblower would feel inadequate in the midst of his family. He was accustomed to seeing his friend as the master of any situation. Only once, in all the years they had been together, had he ever seen Hornblower lose his iron self-control. But now, he could see a shadow of uncertainty in Hornblower's eyes.

"I don't know exactly what I'll face when I go home." he said. Deciding that complete honesty was for the best, he continued. "My father spends more time drinking than managing the estate, and my brother is faltering. In truth, I don't believe Reg is up to the task of salvaging what's left of our land on his own. He has asked for my help, and I am asking for yours." A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Besides, I would like for my family to meet my best, my dearest, friend."

To that Hornblower had no argument to make. He simply nodded his assent.

"Good!" Kennedy said, a wide grin brightening his face. "We had best gather our things; we'll be leaving in an hour."

****

***************

Two hours later Kennedy and Hornblower sat in the taproom of The Bell, drinking ale and conversing quietly. They were still in uniform, so most of the other patrons kept their distance from the pair. Kennedy sat with his legs stretched out towards the fire, slouching slightly in his chair. To him it was a relief to be off the ship for a while, to have a chance to just be a regular person. He glanced over at his friend and had to stifle a laugh at what he saw.

For it was obvious that Hornblower was not as happy at being ashore. He sat ramrod straight in his chair; if his spine touched the chair back at all it was a miracle. His right hand was curled around his tankard of ale, and his left lay alongside, the long fingers tapping an unconscious rhythm on the tabletop. He managed to hold his head as if he were keeping his bicorne hat balanced on it. Despite the warming effect of the ale, Hornblower was not at all relaxed.

Kennedy took another swallow of ale and leaned forward in his chair. "You know, Horatio, it won't hurt you to unbend a little. We are ashore, Captain Pellew is not going to walk in on us any moment, and Lieutenant Bracegirdle is not watching us." As he spoke he waved his hand to illustrate his points. "You can relax a little."

Hornblower let out his breath in a gusty sigh, and leaned back into the chair. "You're right, Archie. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, be happy! I promise that this trip will not be as terrible as you might think. Who knows, you might actually like my family!"

Now that he had allowed himself to relax, Hornblower found himself unconsciously mimicking his friend's posture. He slouched down in his chair and extended his long legs towards the fire. He took another sip of ale and his eyes closed briefly. He hadn't felt this comfortable since before the mission in France. He glanced toward Kennedy.

"Give me some idea of what to expect when we get to your family's estate. If things are as bad as you suspect, I imagine we'll have our hands full."

Kennedy took a deep breath and stared into the flames as if seeking inspiration. Finally he spoke. "Its not a very simple story, Horatio. Are you sure you want to hear everything?"

A small smile appeared on Hornblower's face. "I'm not exactly in a hurry, Archie. We have comfortable chairs, a warm fire, and I'm sure we can get more ale." His smile broadened. "So let's have the whole story, all right?"

Kennedy smiled in response. "All right. The whole story." He paused a moment to gather his thoughts. "You know that my mother died not long after we were released from prison." Hornblower nodded. "Well, my parents were very devoted to each other. After Mother's death Father started drinking. Not steady all day long, but rather locking himself in his study and drinking until he was completely insensible. My brother Reginald is having great difficulty dealing with everything - his own feelings about Mother, the drinking, and a bad harvest that has imperiled the estate."

Hornblower looked confused. "Archie, why is your brother so....?"

"Incompetent?"

Hornblower blushed. "I hadn't meant to say that."

Kennedy laughed. "No, but you were thinking it. Fact is, I had two older brothers. Jonathan was the eldest, and Father absolutely doted on him. They were very much alike, and Jon was groomed from birth to inherit. He died of a fever when he was eighteen."

"So what exactly is the problem?"

"Father dislikes Reg. Quite intensely, actually." Kennedy's eyes clouded with memories. "When Jon died, Father fell apart. Reg was sixteen, and Annie and I were thirteen."

"Annie?" Hornblower interrupted.

"My twin sister."

"I didn't know you had a sister!"

Kennedy shot his friend an exasperated glance. "Do you want to hear the story, or ask questions about my sister?"

Hornblower blushed. "I'm sorry. Pray, continue."

"When Jon died, Father was devastated. For more than two years he refused to even acknowledge Reg as his heir. By that time, I was already in the navy, so everything I know is second hand. Father distrusts Reg; hasn't given him any information or instruction in managing the land. Is it any wonder that Reg is so completely lost now? With Father drunk half the time, and Reg with no idea of how to handle anything, I fear that we are in danger of losing our land." Kennedy's voice had risen in his agitation. "I don't know what I can do to help, but I can't just leave my family to suffer." He looked over at his friend. "And now I've dragged you into this mess!" He rubbed a hand over his face. "Well, say something!"

Hornblower turned to look at Kennedy, his expression calm. "As I said before, I believe we have our hands full with this situation." He drained his tankard of ale and stood up. "And since we expect a rough time of it, perhaps we should get some sleep now. We can tackle the problems fresh in the morning."

Some of his calmness and composure transferred itself to Kennedy. Just knowing that his friend was with him helped immeasurably. He quickly drank the last of his ale, and then followed Hornblower to their room.

****

***************

Next morning found Kennedy and Hornblower riding the post chaise away from Portsmouth. They had the chaise to themselves for the first twenty miles, then they were joined by a dour, elderly couple. Their presence effectively stifled any conversation that the two friends might have had, so each was left alone with his thoughts.

Kennedy sat by the window, quietly watching the countryside pass by. Even though it was his brother who had called him home, his thoughts at the moment were entirely focused on his sister. Reg had mentioned that Father was hoping to have Annie married before the year was out, and Kennedy found this urgency puzzling. It also worried him. In his present condition their father was hardly qualified to choose an appropriate husband for his daughter.

The chaise hit a bump in the road, and Hornblower fell against his friend's side. Kennedy looked down at his friend's face, obscured by the dark curls that fell over it. Hornblower was sound asleep. Kennedy did his best not to disturb him; it was the most peaceful sleep the man had enjoyed in weeks. It was also likely to be the last.

A shout from the outrider caught his attention, and Kennedy leaned out the window to see what was ahead. They were coming up to a village; one that he recognized. Eddingstone. Home.

He gently shook Hornblower awake.

"What? Oh, Archie. What's happening?"

"Nothing, Horatio. We have arrived."

Hornblower stretched as best he could in the confines of the carriage, then looked out the window on his side. "We have arrived? Where?" he asked, a slight lilt of amusement in his voice.

Kennedy looked at his friend and gave an answering smile. "I know it doesn't look like much, but this is my home, after all." 

The carriage came to a stop, rocking slightly on its springs. Without waiting for the driver, Kennedy thrust open the door and jumped down. Hornblower followed a little less energetically. His longer legs had surely suffered more during the trip. He went to supervise the unloading of their chests while Kennedy stood looking about in amazement.

"I've been gone for nearly ten years" he said. "And this place hasn't changed one bit!"

Hornblower straightened up from where he had been inspecting one of the chests and looked about him. They were in a small village square, to their right was the green, a small church alongside. To their left a group of small buildings were clustered, including the butcher shop, the blacksmith, a cobbler, and a hostelry. As he watched, a tall man with an impressive head of white hair came out of the hostel and approached the two of them.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen. What can I do...." His words and his steps ground to a halt when Kennedy turned to look at him. A moment passed in utter stupefaction before he was able to speak again.

"Mr. Kennedy? Archie?" His face was transformed by a grin when Kennedy walked to him and warmly shook his hand.

"Mr. Gaines! I was hoping that you would still be here. He turned to his friend. "Horatio, this is Mr. Gaines, the innkeeper. He kept me out of more trouble than I care to remember when I was young. Mr. Gaines, this is my friend, Lieutenant Hornblower."

Gaines extended his hand and Hornblower shook it. "An honour, Lieutenant."

"Likewise, sir" Hornblower replied.

Gaines turned back to Kennedy. "If you gentlemen would come inside, I'll send one of my lads to the hall to fetch your father."

Hornblower had taken a step towards the welcome of the inn before Kennedy spoke. "No, Gaines. That won't be necessary. If you could arrange transport for our dunnage, we'll walk to the hall."

The innkeeper looked surprised, but he didn't argue. A shout over his shoulder brought two boys running into the yard. At his orders they dragged the sea chests towards the stable. Kennedy bid his good byes to Gaines, and then he and Hornblower set off.

"I hope you don't mind the walk, Horatio. Its barely a mile, and I feel like stretching my legs."

The pair walked in companionable silence for a while. Each was lost in his own thoughts. Kennedy was worried about what he would find at home, and with each step closer his agitation increased. A drunken father, a desperate brother, and God alone knew what was happening with Annie. It was almost like the plot of one of the theatrical farces he had so enjoyed when young. Except this was no play; it was all too real.

Hornblower walked with his head bowed, occasionally sneaking a glance at his friend. Kennedy was obviously preoccupied with something, so Hornblower left him to his thoughts. His own thoughts were certainly agreeable. It was a fine summer day, and he appreciated being ashore on a day like this. He inhaled deeply of the sweet scent of newly mown hay, thinking how different it was from the tangy scent of the ocean. As they walked, Hornblower found himself relaxing more. Maybe this trip is just what I needed, he thought. A few days in the company of friends, with nothing to worry about. Things could be worse.

They had been walking for perhaps fifteen minutes when Kennedy came to a sudden stop. For a moment he simply stared into space, while his friend looked on in concern. Hornblower was on the verge of shaking Kennedy out of the stupor he seemed to have fallen in when his friend came back to the present. He looked at Hornblower with a sheepish grin.

"I was just thinking that maybe this was not one of my better ideas" he said. "Still, nothing ventured....", and he nodded his head off to the right.

Hornblower looked that way and saw, at the end of a lane, an imposing sandstone edifice. The slanting rays of the sun made it glow in the late afternoon light. He swallowed and looked at his friend. "The Kennedy manse, I presume?"

Kennedy laughed at Hornblower's comment. "None other. Come on, we may as well get started." He laid a hand on Hornblower's arm. "Adventure and adversity, eh, Horatio?"

As they approached the house Hornblower noticed that it was not as impressive as it had seemed from the lane. The stone of the facade was stained with water and lichen in spots, and two of the windows had broken panes. The park surrounding the house was also in a state of disarray. The grass was uncut and the flower beds were overgrown. When he glanced at his friend he saw that Kennedy's jaw was clenched, and his face was grim. Confronted with this physical proof of his family's troubles, he quickened his pace and all but bounded up the steps to the door.

The door creaked on rusty hinges as Kennedy pushed it open. The light from the setting sun lit a layer of dust on every surface in the entry hall. There was not a servant to be seen.

Kennedy took off his cocked hat, set it on the table, and stood looking about him, uncertain what to do. His friend was a steady presence at his back, but this was one time where Hornblower could not take the lead. He had taken two steps toward one of the doors when it was thrown open.

"I am not going to agree to that! You can just forget about it, because I won't allow that to happen!"

The man who had shouted came striding into the hall. He came to a sudden stop at the sight of the two young men. Even a cursory glance was enough to convince Hornblower that this was his friend's brother. He was taller and broader than Kennedy, but the reddish-blonde hair was the same, as was the set of his jaw.

The moment of stunned silence was interrupted by a door slamming above, and Reginald Kennedy came out of his shock.

"Archie?"

Kennedy smiled and stepped forward to shake his brother's hand. Reg was still too surprised to say anything, but the look of relief on his face spoke volumes.

A clatter of footsteps on the stair landing caught the attention of all three men. Before they could react, a gasp sounded from the stairs. Kennedy turned to confront this new presence, just in time to catch the person in his arms as she ran down the steps. Holding her close, he spun the two of them until he faced his friend.

"Horatio, this is my twin sister, Annabelle."


	2. Annie

**__**

Annie

At dinner that evening Hornblower received a lesson in family life. The atmosphere in the dining room was distinctly chilly; barely ten words were spoken the entire meal. Edward Kennedy sat at the head of the table, eating very little but making free with the wine decanter. Reg sat pale-faced and tight lipped with anger while Annie kept her eyes lowered to avoid calling attention to herself. Only once did she look up with a quick smile for her twin.

Kennedy took advantage of the situation to study his father. In truth, he had barely recognized the older man when he had staggered out of his study in response to the uproar in the entry hall. He seemed smaller, diminished by age and his grief at his wife's death. His face was puffy and bloated, and, underneath the rosy blush of the alcohol, pasty white. He hadn't spoken, only nodded at his youngest son. A slight lift of the eyebrows was all the reaction Hornblower had displayed. With a small shake of his head Kennedy had indicated that they would talk later.

Now he watched as his father poured yet another glass of wine. He noticed Reg watching as well, and he caught his brother's eye. That moment of silent communication was enough for Archie; he knew then that things were much worse than he had anticipated. He pushed his chair back from the table, excusing himself as he rose. Reg quickly followed suit, and without acknowledging their father he left the room.

Archie spared a quick glance and a smile for his sister before following Reg. As the door closed behind him he heard Hornblower ask Annie about the history of the house. He said a silent thank you to his friend; grateful for his presence and his willingness to help. Just keep her distracted, Horatio, he said to himself, while I learn the worst.

He found Reg in the drawing room. It was chilly; one of the windows was open and the fire was not yet lit. His brother was starting the fire as Archie came in and shut the door.

He stopped and looked around, marveling at how little the room had changed over the years. It had been their mother's favorite spot in the house. He could vividly remember the last time he had seen his mother. She had been sitting in this room when he had come to say goodbye before leaving to join the _Justinian_. The morning sunlight filled the room from the eastern windows and created a halo of sorts around her. She had sent him away with well wishes and a smile, and he had never given her a hint of the turmoil he had suffered on board that ship.

He pushed those thoughts away and stared at the portrait of his mother that hung over the mantle. Tears welled up in his eyes as he studied her face.

"She was very beautiful."

Archie jumped at the sound of his brother's voice. When he turned to face Reg, he saw all of his emotions reflected on his brother's face. He turned back to the portrait.

"Yes, she was" he said. "I don't think I've ever seen a woman as beautiful."

Reg went over to the sideboard and poured a glass of brandy. He offered Archie a glass, but he shook his head. Better to keep my thoughts clear, he said to himself.

Reg toasted their mother's picture before turning back to Archie. "Actually, you have seen another woman like her, you just haven't realized it." Reg smiled. "You missed watching Annie grow and change, so you wouldn't have noticed it. She is the absolute image of Mother."

Archie stared at the portrait, comparing it to a mental image of his twin. Unfortunately, in his mind he always saw Annie as a fourteen year old girl, as she had been when he had joined the navy. That image certainly didn't match up with the portrait. Ten years ago Annie had been a gawky, awkward and undeveloped girl. And now?

Archie's mind jumped to earlier that day, when he had watched his sister run down the stairs and into his embrace. With a sense of shock, he realized his brother was absolutely right. Annie had grown and changed into a stunningly beautiful woman; tall, slender, well formed, and all of it topped off by a crown of red-gold hair that would be the envy of anyone. She was, indeed, a duplicate of their mother.

Reg shook his head as he studied the portrait. He turned to his brother and said, "Why do you think Father is so determined to have her married as soon as possible? He can't stand having her in the house; she's too vivid a reminder."

Archie felt a hundred different thoughts whirl in his mind, but he was only able to give voice to one of them. "Who?"

Reg understood. "Our new neighbor." He shrugged and sat down. "Robert Chamberlain."

Archie sat down across from Reg. "What is this neighbor like?"

Reg took a drink from his glass before he responded. "I don't really know. I've never met the man. But I do know that he has a daughter who is about your and Annie's age."

For a moment Archie was too stunned to speak. "He has a daughter our age? And Father wants Annie to marry this man?" He struggled to calm himself. "What have you done about this? Surely you don't think this is a good match!"

"What do you think Father and I were arguing about when you arrived?" Reg asked, turning to stare into the fire. "You don't honestly think I'd let him give Annie to a man more than twice her age, do you?"

Archie studied his brother for a moment, watching the play of firelight on his face. Reg had his jaw clenched so tight that a muscle jumped in his cheek. Lines of worry bracketed his eyes and creased his forehead. Even relaxed as he was the signs of strain were evident.

Archie sighed and rested his head on the back of the chair. His mind was spinning with the effort of absorbing everything. Now that he was home with his family he found all the emotional turmoil of the last few weeks was receding, only to be replaced by new worries. As anxious as he was to ensure the family estate, he was more concerned with protecting Annie. He ruefully acknowledged that he hadn't been the best brother in the world; being in the navy didn't allow for that. But he was home now, and as long as he was alive he would make sure of her health and happiness.

He stood up and began to pace - too agitated to sit still. He stopped in front of the southern windows, which offered the best view of the park. Although it was nearly dark, his mind knew what he was seeing. His mother's rose garden, the box hedge, the summer house - all would be visible from this window come morning.

Archie turned around to find his brother studying him.

"You're wondering if it still looks the same, aren't you?" Reg asked.

"Yes. As a matter of fact I was."

Reg came and stood beside his brother. "The answer is no, it doesn't. Father had the roses dug up the day after Mother was buried. He burned every last bush. And he broke every window in the summer house."

Archie listened to his brother in silence. In his mind's eye he saw his father - grief-stricken and more than likely drunk - setting fire to the roses that his wife had loved so much. It was a telling image.

"Reg..." he had to clear his throat before continuing. "How bad is Father?"

Reg moved away to stand beside the fire. "You saw him. In the mornings he sits in his study and drinks until he's unconscious." A rueful smile curved his lips. "The servants now leave him there to sleep it off." He walked away from the fire, setting down his brandy as he did. "By mid-afternoon he is alert enough to be belligerent, and that is when we argue."

"Argue about what?"

"Anything. Everything. He is so completely unreasonable!"

Archie took a deep breath before speaking again. "Reg, is there anything we can do? Legally, I mean."

Reg shook his head. "No. I've already checked with the lawyers. There is no way that we could prove Father is out of his mind; we would just spend a great deal of money trying. About the only thing we could do is purchase the estate from him - lock, stock, and barrel." He glanced sideays at his brother. "I don't suppose you're hiding a fortune in prize money somewhere?"

Archie had to laugh at the thought. "I was in prison for nearly four years, Reg! How many ships do you think I captured in that time?"

Reg shrugged, and a smile lit his face. "You couldn't have managed at least one?" His smile broadened into a grin as he laid his arm across his brother's shoulders. "Have I told you yet how glad I am to have you home?"

"No, you haven't!" Archie smiled in return. "But I imagine its as glad as I am to be here."

The next morning Kennedy was awake with the sun. It had been a restless night; without the sound of the ship's bells he found sleeping difficult. The house was quiet as he dressed and made his way downstairs. He was curious as to why none of the servants were awake; there was no sign of breakfast in the dining room, so he made his way to the kitchen.

Outside the kitchen door he hesitated. He could hear voices inside; low pitched with an occasional spark of laughter. It would appear that breakfast was being made, and from the laughter it was obvious that someone was in the cook's good graces. Kennedy decided to brave Mrs. Keller's displeasure, and pushed open the door.

At the sight of the group gathered around the table he stopped short. Hornblower was there, dressed in civilian clothes, and laughing and talking with three of the downstairs maids. Mrs. Keller was at the stove, standing with her face averted, but Kennedy caught a glimpse of her wide grin. 

He cleared his throat to announce his presence. The maids immediately scrambled out about their duties, and Mrs. Keller composed her face into an appropriate expression of somberness.

"I suppose you'd be wantin' yer breakfast, Mister Archie" she said, pouring him a cup of tea as she spoke. "Yer friend 'ere 'as been waitin' for you, and turnin' the 'eads of them foolish young girls." She indicated the door through which the maids had departed.

Hornblower grinned and sat back in his chair. "I was doing no such thing! I was simply telling some stories of life aboard ship." His eyes sparkled with humour. "Can I help it if they were entertained by it?"

Kennedy shook his head and rolled his eyes before taking the seat beside Hornblower. It was a relief to see his friend smile again. Even if it means that half the female staff are going to fall for him, Kennedy ruefully acknowledged to himself. Of course, Hornblower was completely unaware of his impact.

__

thunk

Kennedy started out of his reverie when Mrs. Keller deposited his breakfast on the table. At the sight, and especially the smell, of the food he realized how hungry he was. He had been too tense and nervous to eat very much at dinner last night. He fell on the plate like a starving man, and barely noticed when Mrs. Keller slid a second portion of everything onto his plate.

Beside his friend Hornblower did likewise. Mrs. Keller's cooking was a most welcome change from dried beef and ship's biscuit. The two young men were quiet while they ate, each concentrating on his plate as Mrs. Keller stood by with an appreciative smile.

When he had finished, Kennedy wiped his mouth with the napkin and gulped down the last of his tea. He stood and walked to where Mrs. Keller was chopping vegetables and kissed her loudly on the cheek.

"Mrs. Keller, you are a wonder, as ever! What I wouldn't give to have you cooking on board the Indy!"

Mrs. Keller flushed with pleasure at Kennedy's praise. "Get on with the both of you! 'Ow's a body to get any work done around 'ere with you lads about? Eat me out of me own kitchen, you will!"

Kennedy just grinned as Hornblower finished his meal. After thanking Mrs. Keller again the pair left the kitchen and made their way back to the main hall.

"How did it go with your brother last night?"

"Well. It went well." Kennedy responded. "Certain facts are now clearer."

"Like what?"

Kennedy steered Hornblower toward the drawing room. When they were both seated he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"There is a problem that I didn't tell you about before, Horatio." He took a deep breath before continuing. "Father is determined to have Annie married. By the end of the year, if possible."

Hornblower raised his eyebrows at that bald statement. "That's hardly unusual, Archie. She is twenty-four years old."

Kennedy stood and began pacing. "You don't understand, Horatio. He's not thinking clearly about any of this. All he cares about is getting Annie out of the house."

Hornblower stood and put a hand on his friend's shoulder, quieting Kennedy's nervous motion. "I agree that your father isn't thinking clearly, but what does any of that have to do with wanting your sister to marry?"

"He wants her married and out of the house because of that!" Kennedy gestured toward the portrait above the mantle before flopping himself back into his chair.

Hornblower studied the painting for a moment before responding. "Its a portrait of Annie. I still don't understand..."

Kennedy laughed mirthlessly at his friend's summation. "That's not Annie, Horatio. That's our mother."

Hornblower looked again at the portrait and then back at Kennedy. Comprehension dawned in his eyes. "I see. It makes more sense now. If your parents were as close as you say..."

"They were." Kennedy abruptly stood. "Let's go outside."

Hornblower followed as Kennedy walked to the south lawn of the park. What he saw there was further proof of the decline of the estate. An overgrown area that might have been a garden at one point was the prominent feature. A bedraggled hedge marked a boundary of sorts. And off in the distance he could see a summer house of some kind. It was almost obscured by a growth of ivy.

Kennedy turned to face his friend. He pointed to the area that had once been a garden. "That was Mother's rose garden. Reg told me last night that Father had all the bushes dug up and burned the day after Mother was buried. And that box hedge over there? We used to play there as children. Mother would chase us around in that maze for hours. And do you see the summer house down there?"

Hornblower nodded.

"That was one of mother's favorite spots on the grounds. Father broke every window in it after the funeral. "

Kennedy turned to face the house again. "That room was Mother's favorite because from there she could look out at all of this." His gesture encompassed the entire south lawn. "I think Father wants his life stripped of any reminders. I'm surprised he hasn't destroyed that portrait yet!"

Hornblower looked around at the evidence of one man's overwhelming grief. His logical mind reeled at the thought of such intensity of emotion. But there was no doubting the facts. Edward Kennedy was systematically destroying the life he and his wife had shared, even though it meant destroying his children in the process.

He glanced up toward the house and caught sight of a figure standing in the window that looked out over the south lawn. Kennedy looked up at the same moment and without another word to his friend began running to the house.

When he burst into the front hall he caught a glimpse of Annie's skirts as she rounded the stair landing.

"Annie!"

She didn't stop, so Kennedy took the stairs two at a time. He caught up with his sister outside the door to her bedroom. He opened the door and followed her inside. He leaned against the closed door while Annie sat in one of the chairs near the fireplace.

"I need to talk to you."

"I know," Annie said.

"Then why did you run?" He went and knelt in front of her chair and took her hands. "Annie..."

"It doesn't matter, Archie. Nothing I say or do makes any difference." She focused her attention on their clasped hands.

"Do you really believe that I feel that way? Or that Reg does? Annie, look at me."

She lifted her head, and green eyes met blue.

"Annie, do you know that Father has been trying to arrange your marriage?"

Annie swallowed hard before she replied. "Yes. He wants me to marry our new neighbor, Robert Chamberlain." A tear fell from her eye and ran slowly down her cheek.

Kennedy reached out and gently brushed the tear away. "Reg is not going to allow this marriage to happen, Annie. You don't have to worry."

Annie laughed outright at that statement. She pulled her hands free and went to stand beside the bed. Her fingers lightly traced the circular pattern on the quilt that was spread across the foot. With a shock Kennedy realized that it was their mother's wedding quilt. Annie must have taken it and hidden it in her room before their father could have it burned.

She turned to face her brother again. "Do you think I trust Reg to help me?" Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks now. "He's weak, Archie. He can't fight Father forever. I'm surprised he's lasted this long! Eventually he'll give in, simply to stop the argument. And that will be that. I'll be married to a man twice my age before anything else can be done." She sat on the foot of the bed and began to sob.

Kennedy sat beside her and placed an arm around her shoulders. "Annie, do you trust me?"

She nodded.

"I am not going to allow anything to happen to you. As long as I am alive, you'll be all right. Do you believe me when I say that?"

In reply Annie simply turned her head into her brother's shoulder. Kennedy put his arms around her and let her cry.


	3. Love Thy Neighbor

**_Love Thy Neighbor_**

Kennedy had held his sister until at last, exhausted, she had fallen asleep against him.  He laid her gently on her bed, covered her with the quilt, and then went in search of his brother.

After a fruitless ten minutes of wandering the downstairs rooms he found the butler, Jenkins, in the dining room.

"Jenkins, have you seen my brother this morning?"

"No Mr. Archie.  He rarely rises before ten in the morning."  Jenkins continued counting the silver.  "You could probably find him in his room."

"Thank you, Jenkins."  Kennedy turned to leave the room, but some impulse made him turn back.  Something in the butler's voice had set an alarm going in his mind.  He looked suspiciously at Jenkins' back, but the butler kept his head bent to his task. 

Kennedy left the dining room and made his way to the stairs.  As his foot touched the bottom most step his mind jumped back to the previous night, and the brandy that Reg had been drinking.  The decanter had been missing from the drawing room this morning.  His heart vehemently denied the possibility, but his head wouldn't let go.  By the time he reached Reg's bedroom he was running.

When a discreet knock on the door yielded no result Kennedy began pounding on it.  With each passing second his fears grew stronger.  When the door finally swung open he stood in stunned silence.  A quick glance at Reg told him the entire story.  He was white-faced and unsteady on his feet, and the dark circles under his eyes were a startling contrast to his pale skin.

"Archie? What is the matter with you?"

Kennedy shoved his brother back inside the room, and slammed the door shut with a resounding crash. 

Reg winced at the noise and pressed a shaking hand to his forehead.  He opened his mouth to speak, but Archie was there before him.

"How long has this been going on?"  Archie managed to keep his voice quiet, despite the rage that was building inside of him.

"How long has what..."

"Stop it!" Archie interrupted.  "Did you think I wouldn't figure it out?"  He turned to the chest of drawers beside him and picked up the empty brandy decanter.  The look he gave his brother spoke volumes as he walked to the fireplace and smashed the decanter against the bricks.  It shattered in spectacular fashion, scattering shards of glass and lightly perfuming the air with brandy like an afterthought.

Archie walked back to where his brother had collapsed into a chair, bits of glass crunching under his boots.

"So" Archie said.  "Is this your idea of how to cope with your problems?  Like father, like son, I suppose."

Reg turned away, unable to meet his brother's steely blue eyes.  The barely disguised contempt in Archie's voice made him defensive, and when he spoke it was with an answering spark of anger.

"You don't understand!  You can't possibly imagine what it has been like since Mother died..."

Archie finally let his anger loose.  "You're damn right I don't understand!  How could I?  How could I possibly understand a man who turns his back on people who need him, people who depend on him, just because he doesn't feel up to the task of caring for them?  How could I possibly understand anyone thinking that brandy is the solution to all of their problems?" 

He picked up the brandy snifter and hurled it against the wall.  More splinters of glass fell on the floor.  He stood for a moment, his back turned, and reined in his rage.  When he spoke again his voice was calm and controlled.

"I have news for you, Reg.  I have suffered in ways that you cannot conceive of in the last few years.  But not once did I think that rum, or gin, or wine, or brandy, would make that suffering disappear."  He took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh.  "I imagine that is the difference between you and me."

Reg sat slumped in his chair, unable to meet his brother's eyes.  For a moment Archie simply stood over him, waiting for Reg to respond.  When no response came, Archie snorted with disgust, turned away and went to the door.  He had opened the door and taken a step across the threshold before Reg spoke.

"Its not as bad as you think, Archie."

Archie kept his back turned and one hand on the doorknob as he spoke.  "No Reg.  I imagine its much worse."  He half turned toward his brother.  "And the worst part is that I could have forgiven you almost anything.  The loss of the estate, the ruin of our family, anything!  But your weakness has put Annie in an untenable situation.  And that..."  He took a deep breath.  "That I can never forgive you for."

Kennedy left the room without looking back.  He thought he heard something like a sob from Reg's room, but then the door closed quietly.  He forced himself to walk down the hall.  When he came to Annie's door he opened it a crack and peeked in.  She was still asleep, her hands tucked under her chin. A lock of hair had come loose from her pins and fallen across her face.  Kennedy smiled, thinking to himself that it had to be tickling her nose.  He carefully brushed the hair back from her face so as not to wake her.

"I'm sorry, Annie." he whispered.  "I'm sorry that Reg has let you down, and I'm sorry that I didn't realize.  Everything will work out for the best, I promise you."

As he left his sister's room, quietly shutting the door, Kennedy felt his resolve strengthen.  He knew what he had to do; it was just a matter of forcing himself to take the necessary steps.

At the head of the stairs he met his friend coming up.  Hornblower had a worried look on his face and when he spoke it confirmed that impression.

"Archie?  Are you all right?" he asked.  "I heard glass shattering, and I wondered..."

Kennedy reached out and briefly touched his friends shoulder.  "I'm all right, Horatio.  But I may be about to expose myself to a broadside."  He smiled slightly.  "Can I count on your support?"

Hornblower noticed the cautious look in his friend's eyes, but he accepted the smile, and without hesitation he nodded.  "Of course Archie. I'll do whatever I can to help."

"Thank you, Horatio."  Kennedy's smile blossomed into a full fledged grin.  "Have I mentioned how glad I am that you are here with me?"

"No, but I already had that figured out."  Hornblower's grin was at least as wide as Kennedy's.  He turned and followed his friend down the stairs.

As they went down the steps Kennedy told Hornblower what he had discovered in his brother's room.  Hornblower's impassive face gave no hint of his thoughts, but Kennedy could tell his friend was mulling over this latest problem in the saga of the Kennedy clan.

"What are you going to do?" Hornblower asked.

Kennedy stopped, turned and looked at his friend.  "The only thing I can do. Somebody has to preserve and protect what's left, and I guess that will have to be me."  He went down the final three steps.  "Horatio, could you wait for me in the dining room?  I may need you at my back for what I'm about to do."

"Of course.  You know you can count on me, Archie."  Hornblower's gaze never faltered, and his tone remained even.  Kennedy took what strength he could from his friend's presence before walking back towards the kitchen.

Hornblower stood alone at the foot of the stairs and worried about his friend.  They were in a pressure packed situation, and he was frightened that Kennedy would react as he often had in the past.  True, he had not had a fit in nearly four months, but nevertheless Hornblower was nervous that it would happen now.  Although nothing had ever been said, he had always wondered if Kennedy's father had pushed him into the navy to get rid of a family embarrassment.  If Archie were to break down now....

Hornblower shook his head in denial.  His friend had held himself together remarkably well during the disaster at Muziallc, and had been so strong and supportive once they had returned to the ship.  He could not bring himself to believe that Kennedy would lose himself here, in the closeness of his family.

"Mr. Hornblower..."

The quiet voice behind him made Hornblower jump.  He spun around, his heart thumping, and met a pair of soft green eyes.

"Miss Kennedy!  You startled me!"

Annie came down the stairs and stood at Hornblower's side.  "I'm sorry. Perhaps I should not walk so quietly."  She was smiling, but her brow was furrowed as she looked down the hall, in the direction her twin had gone.  "What's going on?"

Hornblower looked toward the kitchen before answering.  "I'm not really sure. Archie simply asked that I wait for him in the dining room."  He offered Annie his arm.  "Will you join me, Miss Kennedy?"

Her smile intact, Annie placed her hand in Hornblower's arm.  As they walked toward the dining room, Hornblower found himself glancing frequently at the young woman at his side.  She was so like her twin, but so different, and the difference went deeper than just being female.  Even in the midst of the family's turmoil, there was a tranquility about Annie; a sense of peace.  Despite his best intentions Hornblower was fascinated by her.

When they arrived at the dining room, they found Kennedy already there.  He was standing at the head of the table, his hands tightly clenched behind his back.  Hornblower recognized the "junior officer trying to look commanding" pose, so he gently removed Annie's hand from his arm and sat in one of the chairs against the wall.

Annie stood there for a moment, unsure of what was happening.  She looked from Hornblower to her brother, hoping for some sort of signal.  She was worried; that much was obvious in her tense posture and the expression on her face.

Kennedy smiled reassuringly at his sister.  She opened her mouth to ask a question, then thought better of it.  She sat in the chair beside Hornblower, clasped her hands together in her lap, and waited.

They did not have long to wait.  Within a moment the door that led to the butler's pantry and the kitchen opened and the servants filed into the room.  Jenkins and Mrs. Keller led the small procession.  They were followed by the three downstairs maids, the two upstairs maids, the young scullery maid and the even younger boot boy.  The gardeners, grooms and stable hands came in last.  They all looked nervous.

Kennedy noticed the anxious glances being exchanged, and he hastened to reassure the staff.  "Its all right, all of you.  I haven't asked you here to let anyone go, or to unleash verbal abuse on you."  He continued, half under his breath. "I imagine you've been getting quite enough of that from Father."

"Sir?" Jenkins asked, puzzled.

Kennedy raised his voice again to be heard by all in the room.  "I have asked you all here to request your help."  His face became serious.  "Many of you know that your master, my father, has not been well since the death of his wife."  He laughed ruefully.  "Let's tell the truth, shall we?  He's been insensible with drink most of the time.  In the short time since I have come home, I have not failed to observe the state of disrepair into which the house and the park have fallen."  The worried looks were back, and he plowed ahead with what he had to say.  "I am not blaming any of you.  But I would like to see things back to where they should be.  I know that my brother, as well as my father, has had his problems recently, so I will take full responsibility."  He looked around the room, catching the eye of every member of his audience.  "I want this place back to normal.  That means the hedges trimmed, the grass mown, the house dusted, the windows cleaned, the broken glass repaired, and anything else that I can think of.  Are we all understood?"

There was stunned silence in the room.  It seemed that no one was willing to countermand the wishes of a master, even a drunken one.  Finally Jenkins took a step forward.

"If that is what you wish, Mr. Kennedy, that is what shall be done."  He turned to face his staff. "I want the household staff in the kitchen in fifteen minutes.  You will receive your directions there."  He turned back to Kennedy.  "Will there be anything else, sir?"

Kennedy was startled.  Not only had Jenkins not called him Mr. Archie, he had called him sir!  He felt a rush of warmth towards the man; indeed, for the entire staff.  It seemed that they were more than willing; it had been first Father's, and then Reg's, mismanagement, that had reduced things to this state.

Jenkins was still waiting for an answer.

"Oh, yes Jenkins!  Please have a horse saddled for me.  I am going to pay a call on the Chamberlains."

Jenkins nodded and ushered the staff out of the dining room.

After the last servant left Hornblower took a deep breath and exhaled loudly.  He now understood what his friend had meant when he said he was going to expose himself to a broadside.  Going directly to the staff had been a somewhat ill-advised move, albeit a necessary one.  I wonder what will happen when Mr. Kennedy and Reg become aware of what Archie's done, he said to himself.

He suddenly became aware of movement beside him.  Annie had stood up and walked to her brother.  The pair of them simply stared at each other for a moment.  Than Kennedy reached out to touch Annie's shoulder and she stepped closer and into his embrace.  Hornblower quietly left the room.

He went to the drawing room and stood at the southern window.  Already the outdoor servants were at work, trimming the hedges and using long scythes to trim the grass.  They laughed as they worked, their wide grins visible even at a distance.  Hornblower marveled at the change that had been wrought simply because some one had taken charge.  He was extraordinarily proud of his friend.

But at the back of his mind, worry still niggled.  He had left the drawing room door open, and across the hall was the study where Edward Kennedy spent his days.  Sounds of movement, and an occasional curse, could be heard through the door.  If the elder Kennedy were coherent enough, Hornblower imagined that all of Archie's hopes would be dashed.  The older man had not appeared to be a particularly forgiving man, or one who would tolerate interference.

A sound behind him made Hornblower start and turn towards the door.  Annie stood there, one hand nervously stroking the skirt of her dress.  She came into the room and with a guilty look across the hall to the study, quietly shut the door.  Hornblower turned back to the window, and Annie came and stood beside him.  They saw a groom bring a saddled horse up from the stable, and moments later heard its hooves on the hard-packed earth of the lane as Kennedy trotted off to pay his call on the Chamberlains.

"You're worried about him, aren't you?" Annie asked.

Without turning to look at her Hornblower responded.  "Yes, I am. He's my best friend in all the world, and I don't want to see him hurt."

Annie smiled at the response, but she still felt wary of this newcomer.  She was so grateful that her twin brother had found such a man as a friend.  In his letters to her, Archie had often spoken of Hornblower; with affection, with some exasperation, but most of all, with admiration.  She knew also that Archie trusted him implicitly, and believed that his friend would never let him down.  Because of that, she felt herself trusting Hornblower as well, but she still felt the need to protect Archie as best she could.

"You're wondering when he's going to crack under the pressure.  When he's going to have a fit."

Hornblower turned an astonished face toward the woman at his side.  Before he could respond she continued, her voice as hard as flint.

"I'm right, aren't I?  You've seen it happen before, so now you're just waiting for him to fall apart, so you can step in and say I told you so!  Just like Father!  You don't think he can handle anything; you think its a sign of weakness!  You think its a waste of time to even let him try!  You...."  Annie stopped speaking when she saw the puzzlement and shock on Hornblower's face.  For a moment she thought he was mocking her, but then came the realization that he was on her side just as surely as he was on her brother's.

"Miss Kennedy..."

Annie closed her eyes and felt a blush of shame creep up her cheeks.  "Oh Lord!  I'm sorry!"  She covered her face with one hand, and her voice came slightly muffled from the fingers across her mouth.  "I can't believe I just said all that! You must think I'm the most addle-brained and ill-tempered woman alive!"

Hornblower reached out and gently pulled her hand from her face.  At his touch, Annie opened her eyes and saw that he was smiling.  Her cheeks warmed again, but this time it had nothing to do with embarrassment.  She was acutely aware of how close they stood to each other, and to the fact that he still held her hand

"Miss Kennedy."  Hornblower's voice was gentle.  "I can assure you that I have perfect faith in Archie's abilities."  For a moment his eyes were clouded with memories.  "Believe me, I have seen him handle himself with poise and courage under incredibly trying circumstances.  He saved my life not long ago, at tremendous risk to himself.  I can not think of anyone else who has his enormous strength of will, and I have no doubt that he will be able to put things right here.  It is his responsibility, after all.  I am here simply to support my friend."  His words seemed to sink in after a moment, and he blushed bright red.  "Oh, dear!  That sounded frightfully pompous, didn't it?"

Annie laughed outright at that comment, and shook her head.  "No, Mr. Hornblower!  It sounded honest, and I would much prefer a man to be honest with me than say what he thinks I want to hear.  And I would very much like to hear about some of the adventures you and Archie have had together."  She moved to take a seat on the small sofa beside the window, her hand still clasped in Hornblower's.  "And my name is Annie!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I rather dislike being referred to as Miss Kennedy, so I would appreciate your calling me Annie."

Hornblower looked at their two hands still joined, and then back to Annie's eyes.  "Annie it is, then."  A slight flush stained his cheeks.  "I heartily dislike my given name, but I would be honoured if you called me Horatio."

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Kennedy had ridden hard to cover the five miles to Marsden Hall.  According to Jenkins the Chamberlains, father and daughter, had moved in just six months ago.  They kept mostly to themselves, although the daughter had been seen in the village on a number of occasions.  The village gossips had dismissed the girl.  She was not considered to be a beauty, and therefore not worth speculating about.  The only comment made about her was that she had dark hair.  He felt his curiosity growing as he drew closer to the neighboring house, eager to meet the family that his father wanted Annie to marry into.

Whatever shortcomings the Chamberlains had did not include their domestic staff.  When Kennedy dismounted at the front entrance there was a groom standing by to take the horse to the stable.  He was only halfway up the steps when the front door was opened, and he was ushered into the sunlit front hall.  The servant took his hat and gloves, and went to fetch the butler.

While he waited Kennedy amused himself by comparing this visit with the last time he had been at Marsden Hall, over eight years ago.  Well, he said to himself, the floor is the same!  Everything else was so different as to make the house almost unrecognizable.  He spied the silver calling card tray on one of the tables, and cursed under his breath.  He had forgotten to take some of the Kennedy family cards before he left, so he would have to play this by ear.

"May I help you, sir?"

Kennedy turned to face the butler.  The soft Scottish burr in the man's voice was a welcoming sound.  "Yes.  My name is Kennedy, Archie Kennedy.  From Rosefield.  I would like to speak with Mr. Robert Chamberlain, if I may."

"I am sorry sir, but Mr. Chamberlain has gone to town on a business matter.  Perhaps you could speak to Miss Chamberlain?"

Kennedy felt a small pang of disappointment, but decided it would do no harm to speak to the daughter.  "Yes, thank you.  I would like to speak with Miss Chamberlain."

"This way, then, sir."  He began walking towards the rear of the hall.

The butler stopped and pushed open one of the doors.  "If you'll wait here in the study, Mr. Kennedy, I shall fetch Miss Chamberlain."

"What is your name?"

"Ferguson, sir."

"Thank you, Ferguson."  If Kennedy had learned one thing in His Majesty's Navy, it was the importance of thanking people by name.

Ferguson smiled slightly to acknowledge the thanks before he quietly left the room.  It wasn't long before footsteps sounded in the hall, and low voices murmured outside the door.  Kennedy pretended to be studying a shelf of books, keeping his back to the door.

"Mr. Kennedy?  I understand that you wished to speak to me.  I am Emma Chamberlain."  She came forward with her hand outstretched

He turned around and stood stunned.  It seemed that the village gossips were unjust in their treatment of Emma Chamberlain.  True, she did have dark hair, but all the rest was false.  She was, quite simply, the most beautiful girl that he had ever seen.


	4. The Message

**__**

The Message

"Mr. Kennedy? Are you all right?"

Kennedy managed to shake himself out of his stupor, but was unable to find his voice. Emma felt her concern becoming alarm, so she took hold of his arm and guided him to a chair.

"Here, I think you had better sit down." She crossed the room and rang the bell pull. "Ferguson, could you bring some brandy and water in? I believe Mr. Kennedy may be in need of a restorative."

When the brandy was brought Emma placed the glass in Kennedy's hand and raised it to his lips. He took an involuntary swallow. The brandy burned a trail down his throat, and he coughed and spluttered in reaction. Ferguson, who was standing behind the chair, clapped Kennedy on the back until his coughing subsided.

His eyes watering from the brandy and the coughing fit, Kennedy looked up to find Emma standing above him, a look of concern on her face. He blinked rapidly to clear his eyes, and with a slight smile Emma handed him a glass of water.

"Thank you." His voice rasped in his throat, so Kennedy took a quick drink of water. "Thank you" he said again, his voice sounding much more normal.

"You're very welcome, Mr. Kennedy." Emma gave a small nod of her head, and Ferguson left the room. "It is rather hot today." she continued. "Its no wonder that you felt out of sorts when you arrived."

Too embarrassed to admit the true cause of his disorientation, Kennedy simply nodded. "Yes, it is quite warm today. Thank you, Miss Chamberlain. I appreciate your kindness."

Emma sat in the chair opposite Kennedy and gave him a quick, yet careful, examination. A cursory glance might lead some to dismiss the young man, but Emma was shrewder than that. She took in everything; his slightly disheveled blonde hair, the gentleness in his clear blue eyes, his rigid posture as he sat straight in the chair. She was evaluating the quality of his fine leather boots when she heard a quiet cough.

Emma snapped her eyes back to Kennedy's face, praying that the flush she felt was not visible.

"Mr. Kennedy..."

"Miss Chamberlain..."

Spoken at the same time, their words ran over each other. They both gestured for the other to continue, and then laughed at their predicament. Kennedy sat back in his chair, relaxing now that the awkwardness of those first moments was gone. He took a moment to study Emma, admiring the glossy sheen of her dark hair and the intelligence in her grey eyes.

Emma was very aware of Kennedy's admiring glance, but she didn't look away from it. When his eyes met hers there was a flash of understanding between them. A flush stained Kennedy's cheeks bright red, but he held Emma's gaze. He had the oddest sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, and he felt as if he was seeing the other half of his soul in her eyes.

Emma shook herself free of his beguiling blue gaze. Her face was flushed and her heart was racing. She was dumbfounded; she had never reacted like this to any man she had ever met. She knew that the younger Mr. Kennedy was a naval officer, and she was curious as to what had brought him home. In particular, she was curious about what had brought him to _her_ home.

"What is it you wished to speak to my father about, Mr. Kennedy?"

Her quiet voice jolted Kennedy out of his reverie. "I...." He found it difficult to bring up the subject with her, but he forced himself to. "I am concerned about my sister."

"Annie?"

"You've met her?" Kennedy asked, surprised.

"Yes, I have. In the village one day. Mr. Gaines introduced us." She was puzzled by the surprise in his face. "Why? Is there a problem? And how can your concern for her involve my father?"

Kennedy studied Emma's face, looking for any sign that she might be lying. As best as he could tell, she was genuinely confused. Does she really not know, he asked himself? And should I be the one who tells her? "Miss Chamberlain, I am concerned because my father plans to have my sister marry your father." There. It was said.

Emma froze. Surely she had misheard him. Her father? Marry again? "That's nonsense! I can assure you, Mr. Kennedy, that my father has no intention of marrying again." Emma stood and began pacing the room. "My parents were very close; they knew each other almost from birth! Its not possible that he would ever marry again!"

Kennedy watched in silence as Emma paced. When she stopped behind the desk he stood and faced her. "I'm sorry. I thought you knew about it! Surely your father would have told you." A new thought struck him. "Miss Chamberlain, have you met my father? Has he ever been here?"

"Once. He's been here once." Her face was set in anger, her jaw clenched. "He was drunk when he came here. My father tried to be polite to him, but eventually had the servants remove him from the property."

Kennedy absorbed this new information. "Is it possible that our fathers have met somewhere else, in the village? Could my father have offered my sister to yours then?" He saw Emma growing angry again, and continued before she could say anything. "Its just that everyone at Rosefield is convinced that Annie is going to marry your father. And now I find out it is unlikely that the subject has even come up? I'm sorry, but I find that difficult..." His voice trailed off as his mind started to race. Reg, he thought to himself. God damn him! He made the whole thing up! 

"I'm sorry. I have to leave." He quickly crossed to the study door and pulled it open. He collected his hat and gloves from the table in the hall. When Emma came out of the study, she had a look of utter stupefaction on her face.

"Mr. Kennedy....."

"I'm sorry to leave so abruptly." He finished adjusting his gloves, went to the front door and pulled it open. He turned back to where Emma stood in the hall. "When do you expect your father to return?"

"Tonight. I expect him home tonight. What....?

Kennedy nodded. "Perhaps you and you father would care to dine with us at Rosefield in two days time. Shall we expect you then?"

Emma could only nod in response. She was puzzled and confused, but she understood that something was afoot. The question of her father marrying Annabelle Kennedy was unexpected, but she felt that in two days time everything would be resolved.

A shout from Kennedy brought the groom running with his horse. With a last tip of the hat to Emma, Kennedy trotted down the steps and swung himself into the saddle in one smooth motion.

"Thank you again, Miss Chamberlain. It was a pleasure." He jerked the reins to turn the horse down the drive.

"Emma! Call me Emma!" He heard the words shouted behind him. Despite his anger and confusion, Kennedy found himself grinning all the way home.

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What was your mother like, Horatio?"

"Hmmmm?" Hornblower turned to the woman who walked at his side. Annie's question had caught him with his mind wandering. He was enjoying the warmth of the late summer day and the opportunity to walk a distance, something impossible to do on board ship. He and Annie had been strolling in such companionable silence that her words had caught him completely off guard.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention. Its so beautiful out here." His gesture encompassed everything around them; the wood at whose edge they walked, the open meadow that sloped down to a small stream, even the few sheep that grazed not far away. The look in his eyes seemed to include Annie, as well.

Annie ducked her head to hide her smile. She knew exactly how Hornblower felt. During the months that her mother had been sick, and since she had died, Annie had often come to this same spot to be alone with her thoughts. Now she took pleasure in the company of the man at her side.

"I asked you what your mother was like." she repeated her question.

Hornblower shrugged. "I don't really know. She died when I was quite young. I was only six at the time."

"Do you remember anything about her? Anything at all?"

He thought for a moment before replying. "Very little. She had dark hair, and a soft voice. I remember she sang a great deal." He stopped walking and looked at Annie. "Why?"

"No reason, really. Its just that...." She stared off into the distance as she spoke. "I can't really explain it. But for all the time I spent with my mother I still feel as if I hardly knew her. Does that seem strange?"

"Not really. I often feel that way about my father." Hornblower sighed and looked at his feet before continuing. "He is the most important person in my life, in many ways, and yet I could not tell you the first thing about who he is in his heart. I can say that he is a doctor, and a very fine one, but what kind of man he is?" He looked again at Annie. "That I can not tell you."

Annie abruptly sat down in the grass, hugging her knees to her chest. Hornblower lowered himself down beside her, sitting with his long legs stretched out in front of him. The sun beat down on them, and he felt the sweat prickle his skin, but he would not have moved for anything. He felt that Annie needed to talk about her mother, and he was more than willing to listen and offer what consolation he could.

"She was very beautiful, and very kind."

"Yes, she was beautiful." Hornblower smiled when Annie looked quizzically at him. "I've seen the portrait in the drawing room. You look a great deal like her. When I first saw it I thought it was a portrait of you." He laughed "Archie set me straight, however."

"Do you really think I look like her?"

Hornblower turned to Annie. His eyes traced every feature of her face, from her brow to the line of her jaw. His gaze rested on her lips for just an extra moment before he met her eyes. She was undeniably beautiful. Perhaps not in a classical sense; her jaw was somewhat to strong and she had a smattering of freckles sprinkled across her nose, but she had an inner beauty that was beyond compare. Hornblower could easily imagine the well-to-do men of the district lining up to court her.

"Yes" he said, his voice soft. "I think you are very beautiful." He focused his gaze on her lips again and leaned towards her.

A sudden breeze blew an errant strand of her hair across her face, spoiling the moment. Before she could react Hornblower reached out and brushed it away. His hand rested against her cheek for a few seconds before he let it fall back to his side. They shared a quick smile before returning their gazes to the meadow beneath them.

"I hope I have an opportunity to be as happy as my mother was. I know he doesn't seem like it now, but my father is a wonderful man. He's intelligent, witty, charming. No wonder Mother fell for him!" Her expression was wistful as she stared off into the distance. "They were very close, our parents. Sometimes it seemed like they were all that mattered to each other. Certainly I don't think any of their children ever meant as much! Except perhaps for Jon."

"Your brother who died?"

Annie nodded. "Father absolutely idolized Jon. Is it any wonder that Reg seems to measure up so short? How can he possibly fight his brother's ghost? And Archie...."

Hornblower noticed the changed tone of her voice and sensed that this subject was a painful one. There were many things about his friend that he didn't understand and would never have asked directly. This seemed like a heaven sent chance to learn more, and with a mental apology to Archie he asked the question that had always nagged at him.

"Annie, why did your father send Archie to the navy? Why not the church, or have him study law? Or even buy a commission in the army? I would have thought any of those alternatives to be more acceptable than the navy!"

Annie plucked a blade of grass and twirled it between her thumb and forefinger while she considered the question. She sat like that for so long that Hornblower was tempted to repeat himself, thinking that she hadn't heard. But at last she threw the grass away. She took a deep breath before replying. "I really don't know. Maybe he thought that the hardships of life at sea would be more likely to kill him."

Hornblower opened his mouth to protest her statement, but Annie held up a hand to stop him. "Let me finish, Horatio." She turned to look at him, her intense green gaze holding him spellbound. "You have to understand. For as long as I can remember Archie has had those fits. At some point our mother insisted on having a doctor look at him, but the doctor just said there was nothing that could be done for him. He said it would perhaps have been better if Archie had died at birth! I remember hearing my father repeating those words to Mother. But it wasn't just the fits, you see. Archie has always been different. He would rather read a book than ride to the hounds. He would rather spend an evening at the theater than play billiards in some stuffy smoke-filled club. Father could never understand that, so I imagine it was easy to convince himself that there was something wrong with Archie. Something that being in the navy would burn out of him, if it didn't kill him first!"

Hornblower sat in silence, absorbing all that Annie had just said. It explained a great deal; Archie's terror of being bullied, his lack of confidence in himself, even his attempted suicide while they were in prison. If a boy has never been told his worth, what kind of man can he grow up to be? And yet he had seen Archie overcome all these obstacles and beat down all his demons. He was a better and stronger man than anyone in his family could have imagined.

Hornblower was about to make a statement to that effect in an effort to reassure Annie, when her face broke into a brilliant smile. "I am glad that he proved Father wrong! I could tell as soon as I saw him the other afternoon that he had changed." She turned to look at Hornblower. "I am so very proud of him!"

Hornblower smiled in response. "You should be. He's a good man, and a good officer. I count myself lucky to have Archie as my friend."

"He's lucky to have a friend like you, Horatio." Annie turned her smile on Hornblower. "And I am happy that I had a chance to make a friend of you as well."

Hornblower felt himself blushing at her words, but he couldn't look away from her face. Slowly, almost of its own volition, his hand reached out and he brushed the backs of his fingers against her cheek. He gently cupped her chin in his hand.

Annie's smile had faded at Hornblower's touch. She felt rooted to the spot; unable to move a muscle. She stared into his eyes, transfixed as he leaned towards her. At the last second her eyelids fluttered closed.

Their lips met. Tentatively at first; then, when neither drew away, with more urgency. The world shrank down to the small, sunlit patch of grass on which the two of them sat.

Hooves sounded in the distance, approaching rapidly. Annie pulled back and quickly stood up. Her face was flaming from a combination of embarrassment and the rush of sensation she had felt when Hornblower had kissed her. She turned her back to him and stood with her hands pressed to her cheeks, striving to regain her poise and self-control.

Hornblower stood and reached out to gently touch Annie's shoulder. She jumped at the contact, spinning around to face him. Before either could say a word Hornblower caught sight of the approaching rider. "Archie!" he called out.

Kennedy saw his friend and his sister, and galloped over to where they stood. He slid out of the saddle and held out two letters to Hornblower. "Here." he said. "Read the top one first!"

The one letter was already unsealed, so Hornblower opened and read it quickly. His eyes widened as he worked his way through the missive. When he looked up at Kennedy the amazement was plain on his face. "Tea?" he asked, his voice incredulous. "At Edrington Manor? This can't be serious!"

Annie gasped out loud and snatched the letter from Hornblower's hand. "An invitation from the Earl? We're to go to Edrington Manor? When?" She looked at her brother, a wide grin brightening her face. "Oh Archie, this is wonderful!" She re-read the letter. "Tomorrow? Tomorrow?!" She raised a newly stricken face. "What ever am I going to wear?!" Then she picked up her skirts in one hand and ran back towards the house.

Kennedy watched her go with a grin. He had known as soon as he read the invitation how Annie would react. He turned to Hornblower to include him in his amusement. Hornblower had opened the second letter and was staring at it in shock. His face was so pale that for a moment Kennedy feared he would faint.

"Horatio! What is it?"

Hornblower took a deep breath. "I..." He cleared his throat before continuing. "I'm being transferred. In a week's time I am "requested and required" to report for duty aboard HMS _Renown_. I have to leave the Indy."

"What?!" Kennedy grabbed the letter. His eye caught the distinctive fouled anchor emblem of the Admiralty, then he read the entire message. The paper shook slightly in his hand.

" I can't believe this! Leave the Indy?" Kennedy's voice cracked slightly. "You can't leave the Indy! You....." He caught sight of Hornblower's face. He sighed deeply. "You have to obey orders. Not much choice in the matter, is there?" His face brightened. "The _Renown_! A ship of the line! There ought to be some excitement in that, don't you think?"

Hornblower smiled, but it was a feeble attempt. His heart had dropped to his toes when he saw that word "transfer". He could not conceive of leaving The Indy; it had been his home for many years, and its crew his family. Still, as Kennedy said, he had to obey orders. And being posted to a ship of the line was exciting! Even if he was posted as the most junior lieutenant.

He turned to walk back to the house. "Yes Archie. I think there will be some excitement in this!" Kennedy moved to follow his friend, leading the horse, and he clearly heard Hornblower's last, amused comment. "Archie, how come you never told me that Lord Edrington lived so close to your family?"


	5. Withstanding The Gale

**_Withstanding The Gale_**

That evening as the sun set black storm clouds gathered in the east.  With a seaman's eye Kennedy noted the shift in the wind, as well as its increased force.  The smell of rain was in the air.  It looked like it would be a rough night.  The approaching storm certainly paralleled what was about to happen in his family, and for a moment Kennedy let his mind dwell on the philosophical implications of that.

But practicality eventually won out, and his mind turned to the question of Annie's marriage.  Emma Chamberlain's surprise and confusion had certainly been genuine.  It was possible that Edward Kennedy had every intention of marrying his daughter to Chamberlain.  But even if that was so, it seemed the question had never been raised.  Which made the certainty of everyone at Rosefield all the more puzzling.  And also had him wondering about his brother.

The evening meal had passed uneventfully, and Kennedy was resting in his bedroom when a knock sounded at the door.  He opened it and his friend quickly brushed past him and sat in the chair by the fireplace.

Hornblower seemed disconcerted; nervously fidgeting in his chair and clasping and unclasping his hands together.  Kennedy studied him closely, wondering what was bothering his friend.  One minute stretched into two, but still neither spoke.  Kennedy felt his thoughts begin to drift more pleasantly toward Emma when Hornblower finally spoke.  His words were so sudden and vehement that it almost seemed as if someone else had spoken them.

"Archie, what the devil is wrong with me?"

For a moment Kennedy was too stunned to reply.  His eyebrows went up, and he looked at his friend as if seeking to know exactly what was in his mind.  He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came to mind.

"Well?"  Hornblower practically shouted the word.

Kennedy jumped as if jabbed in the ribs.  To buy himself a little more time he bent to stoke the fire.  His mind was frantically trying to come up with a reason why Hornblower would ask such a question.  Especially now, of all times.

"Why...." he cleared his throat.  "Why do you ask, Horatio?"

Hornblower sighed and leaned back in the chair.  His head fell back and he stared at the ceiling as he spoke.  "I was just thinking that there must be something wrong with me.  How else can you explain what happened with your sister?"

"My sister?"  There was a slight hint of menace in Kennedy's voice.

Hornblower had the grace to blush at his friend's tone.  "Yes, Archie.  Your sister.  I..." He brought his head back down to meet Kennedy's eyes.  "I am very attracted to her, Archie.  And I kissed her this afternoon."

"So that's why she was blushing when I rode up." Kennedy commented under his breath.

"Pardon?"

Kennedy shook his head.  "Nothing, Horatio.  I was just wondering why being attracted to, and kissing, my sister bothers you so much."

"You know why!  After what happened in Muziallc..."

"You mean Mar..."  Kennedy snapped his mouth shut.  He couldn't hurt his friend by mentioning her name.  But at least now he understood what was bothering Hornblower.  He sat on the bed, resting his hands on his knees.

"So, you've decided there must be something wrong with you because of how you react to beautiful women?"  Kennedy laughed outright.  "Horatio, I would think there was something wrong with you if you didn't react!"

Hornblower looked scathingly at his friend.  "I hardly think this is a laughing matter."  He stood and moved closer to the window, where he could stare out at the gathering storm clouds.

Kennedy tried to stifle his laughter, but he was only moderately successful.  The whole situation had struck him as enormously funny, but he could see that Hornblower was completely serious.  He honestly thought that he had some sort of problem, simply because a pretty face could make him forget his ordinarily prudent manner.

"Horatio, do you believe in love at first sight?"

"What?!"  Hornblower turned his back to the window.  "What does that have to do with anything?"

Kennedy was suddenly serious, his mind focused on his encounter with Emma Chamberlain earlier in the day.  "I think it has everything to do with what we're talking about.  That is what's bothering you, isn't it?  Your eminently logical mind recoils from the idea of so much emotion, so you have to invent excuses for it.  You perceive it as a weakness."

Hornblower took a moment to absorb his friend's words.  He was dumbfounded, and somewhat offended, by Kennedy's frank assessment of his character.  "Is that truly what you think of me?  That I am incapable of loving anyone?"

Kennedy sighed deeply and struggled to put his thoughts into words.  Heaven knew, Hornblower was not always the easiest man to get along with, but he trusted his friend implicitly.  And, indeed, he loved Hornblower as he had never loved either of his brothers.  But such an honest discussion about matters of the heart was a first for them, and Kennedy was wary of exposing too much of himself, while at the same time he was determined not to let his friend hide behind his mask of indifference.

"No, Horatio.  That is not what I think.  I know that you are capable of loving someone.  God knows it was a tremendous act of love when you dragged me back from the edge while we were in prison.  But loving a woman? That is an entirely different thing, and I don't think you truly understand that."  Kennedy thought for a moment before continuing.  "Its not surprising.  I don't believe that any man can truly understand a woman.  How can we?"

"Do you understand women, Archie?"

"Me?  Good God, no!"  He laughed at the thought.  "I understand Annie, yes. But beyond that.....  I am as lost as every other man on this earth!"

Hornblower looked carefully at his friend and suddenly realized that there was more to the conversation than he had originally thought.  Unbidden into his mind came the memory of Kennedy telling him that there was a daughter in the Chamberlain family, and he spoke before he had time to think about his words.

"Archie, what happened when you went to Marsden Hall this afternoon?"

Kennedy blushed bright red.  Inwardly he damned his friend's perception.  Outwardly, his hand strayed to the ribbon that bound his queue and he began to play with one of the loose ends.  It was a sure sign of nervousness, and Hornblower did not fail to notice it.

"Well?  I'm waiting for an answer, Mr. Kennedy!"

Kennedy started at the sound of his friend's voice, and the ribbon in his hand snapped.  "Damn!" he said.  He pulled what was left of it free from his hair, and the blonde waves fell over his shoulders.  He looked at Hornblower with his familiar cheeky grin.

"I'm sorry, what was the question?"

Hornblower grabbed one of the pillows from the bed and hurled it across the room at Kennedy.  When he had stooped to pick it up and was preparing to throw it back, Kennedy saw that Hornblower had fortified himself with another missile.  For a few minutes the battle waged fast and furious.  By the time they wound down, the two young men were all but helpless and gasping for breath.  Their faces were flushed with exertion and laughter.  Kennedy's hair was completely disheveled, and Hornblower's was coming loose from its tight binding.

"I wonder...."  Hornblower was struggling for breath; laughter still threatening to bubble over.  "I wonder what Captain Pellew would think if he saw us right now!"

Kennedy laughed all the harder at the thought of Captain Pellew at his sternest coming upon his two junior officers having a pillow fight.  "He'd probably think we were both mentally unhinged, and have us confined to our quarters!"  The laughter had died down, but they both still had silly grins on their faces as they sat opposite each other by the fire.

"You still haven't answered my question, Archie."

"What?  Oh, this afternoon at Marsden Hall!"  Kennedy thought for a moment, and the expression on his face became wistful.  "I met the woman that I'm going to marry!"

"You met the...."  A knock at the door interrupted what Hornblower was saying.

Kennedy stood and walked to the door.  "I met the woman I am going to marry!"  He grinned and rested his hand on the doorknob.  "It was love at first sight, Horatio!  Love at first sight!"  He swung the door open.

Annie was standing there, her hand raised to knock again.  Kennedy grasped her hand and pulled her into the room, caught her up in his arms and swung her around once.  "It was love at first sight!" he shouted again.

Annie beat against her brother's back.  "Put me down, you big oaf!"  She was smiling when he did.  "What was 'love at first sight'?  And what the devil is going on in here?  I heard a commotion, and then the two of you laughing like maniacs!"  She looked from her brother to Hornblower.  "Well?"

Kennedy resumed his seat, and sat his sister on his lap.  "Nothing is going on."

Annie's gaze took in the pillows scattered about the room and the physical disarray of both young men.  She twisted on his lap to look Kennedy squarely in the eye.  "Nothing?"  Her disbelief was as obvious as her sarcasm.

Hornblower laughed.  "We may as well admit it, Archie.  We've been caught out!"

Kennedy's smile widened and he pressed a quick kiss to Annie's cheek.  "All right!" he admitted.  "You caught us.  You caught two officers in His Majesty's Navy behaving like a couple of infants and having a pillow fight!  Satisfied?"

"Not quite."  Annie's grin was mischievous as she bent and picked two pillows off of the floor.  She threw one at Hornblower and hit her brother squarely in the chest with the other.  "Now I'm satisfied!"

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Later that night the storm struck.  The wind howled and the rain lashed at the windows.  Kennedy lay in his bed, listening to nature's fury, and feeling immensely thankful he was not at sea during such a gale.  In his mind's eye he saw the _Indefatigable_, riding at anchor outside Portsmouth and no doubt tossing in the violent water and struggling against her anchor cables.  I've always had a blessedly strong stomach, he thought, but even I might feel a little seasick in these conditions.

It was just after 3 in the morning when the sound of shattering glass jolted Kennedy out of the half-sleep he had fallen into.  For a moment he was confused and unsure of where he was.  Then reason returned in a rush.  He threw back the covers and quickly made his way to the hallway.

Lights were visible on the lower floor, and voices could be heard.  The loudest among them was Edward Kennedy.  He was shouting incoherently at the servants.

Kennedy went to the end of the hallway and picked up one of the candles kept there.  As he came back to the stairway two other doors opened up.  Hornblower and Annie both came out of their rooms.  Annie looked worried; Hornblower as calm as he always did in a crisis.  They both recognized the voice that was shouting down below, and Annie went pale.

Kennedy could not spare a moment for his sister.  He needed to get downstairs and defuse the situation before his father lost all control.  He instinctively turned to his friend.  "Keep an eye on her, would you, Horatio?"  He indicated Annie with a nod.

"Of course.  Do you have any idea what happened?"

"No."  Kennedy's face was grimly determined.  He had not failed to notice his brother's absence.  "But I have every intention of finding out!"

Annie watched her brother descend the stairs, visibly nervous.  Her face looked even paler in the half-light of the hallway.  Lightning crashed somewhere close by, and she jumped, startled.  Hornblower moved closer and put an arm around her shoulders.

"It'll be all right.  Whatever happened, I'm sure Archie can take care of it."  He gave her a gentle smile.  "Remember, he's proved your father wrong about everything else!"

Annie smiled weakly in return.  She too was abundantly aware of Reg's absence.  She stood quietly in the circle of Hornblower's arm until the shouting had died away.  Then she stepped forward and peered over the edge of the banister.

Hornblower reached out and took her hand.  "Come on.  I think its safe for us to go down now."

Edward Kennedy's study was the center of the turmoil.  When the pair walked through the door they stopped in shock.  There was broken glass and part of a large tree limb on the floor.  The window behind the desk was completely destroyed.  Even as Hornblower watched one of the last bits of glass in the frame quivered and fell to the floor with a soft clink.

Amidst the chaos Kennedy and his father stood face to face, surrounded by most of the indoor staff.  Edward Kennedy was still fully dressed, his face was flushed bright red, and he swayed on his feet.  His eyes blazed with rage, however, and his fists were clenched at his sides.  Jenkins stood off to one side, his eyes never leaving Archie's face.  Hornblower sensed that the storm raging outside was nothing compared to the one about to break in the study.  He gently tugged on Annie's hand to take her from the room, but she resisted the pull and stepped closer to her father.

Finally Edward spoke and all his anger was directed at Archie.  "Just who the hell do you think you are, you ineffectual pissant?!  You're not on board that pathetic frigate you're so damned proud of!  I give the orders in this house!  ME!  No one else!  Certainly not a lowly acting-lieutenant in the Royal Navy!"  He laughed derisively.  "You've gotten quite an inflated view of yourself since they hung that fancy title on your worthless hide!"

Archie remained calm in the face of both his father's rage and his venom.  When Edward had run out of words to hurl at his younger son, Archie directed his attention to the staff.

"Jenkins." he spoke quietly.  "Gather together the men and find something to put over that hole.  We'll worry about disposing of that limb in the morning.  Mrs. Keller, please have two of the maids clean up the glass as best they can.  Everyone will just have to stay out of this room until repairs can be made."

The staff departed with alacrity.  Archie turned back to face his father.  "Is there anything else you would like done, Father?  Or can we all get back to our beds and try to sleep for what's left of the night?"

In the face of his son's composure Edward lost the last shreds of his control.  "How dare you?!"  he shouted.  "How dare you think you can come into this house and install yourself as the master?  That is my place, and my right!"  He was fairly shaking with rage.

Annie couldn't stop herself; she took a pace forward and reached out to her father.  "Please, Father.  Archie just wants to help."

Edward rounded on his daughter so suddenly that she took a shocked step back.  "Did I give you permission to speak, girl?!  My God, I'll show all of you who is the master of this house!"  And he slapped Annie across the face so hard that she staggered.  Her bare foot came down on a shard of glass, and she cried out.

Her anguished cry galvanized Hornblower into action.  He rushed forward, scooped Annie up in his arms and held her against his chest.  He turned back to where the others stood in time to see Kennedy lay his father out with one punch.

There was a gasp from one of the maids, then stunned silence.  Kennedy stood over his father's crumpled form for a moment, his chest heaving.  Then he stepped over his legs and made his way to where Hornblower stood with Annie held close.  She had her face turned into his chest and her shoulders heaved with her sobs.  Blood was visible on the sole of her foot.  Kennedy gently touched her hair before meeting his friend's eyes.

"Take her back to her room.  Can you take care of her foot?"

Hornblower was still in a state of shock, but he was able to answer.  "Yes, Archie.  Of course I'll take care of her."  And with a last measuring glance at his friend he left the room, still cradling Annie in his arms.

Jenkins came forward and coughed softly.  "What should I do about......"  He gestured to where Edward lay unconscious on the floor.

Kennedy sighed and rubbed his hands across his face.  "Take him to his room and put him to bed.  With luck he won't remember anything of what happened tonight."  He looked at Jenkins with a face twisted by doubt.  "But luck hasn't been kind to the Kennedys lately, has it?"

Upstairs Hornblower gently laid Annie on her bed.  She was still crying, but quietly now, not the great wracking sobs of a few minutes before.  A red welt the size of a man's hand had appeared on her left cheek.  Hornblower felt a boiling rage whenever he looked at it.  He knew that some men considered it perfectly acceptable to beat their wives or their daughters, but such an attitude was anathema to him.

"Annie?"  His voice was soft and gentle.

Annie hiccoughed once.  "Yes, Horatio?"

He smiled slightly and brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes.  "I have to see if there is any glass in your wound.  It might hurt some.  Do you trust me?"

Mesmerized by his quiet voice and the gentleness in his eyes, Annie had stopped crying.  "Yes.  I trust you."

Hornblower moved the candle closer and peered at Annie's foot.  He could clearly see the glass poking out of the wound, and as gently as he could he extracted it.  Annie inhaled sharply at the pain but otherwise showed no reaction.  He quickly tore a strip of cloth from the hem of his nightshirt and used it to bind the wound.  He remembered his father once saying that sometimes brandy or whiskey could be poured on such an injury, but he decided to do that tomorrow.

When he was finished he looked up and met Annie's eyes.  She looked so stricken with the welt rising on her cheek that he felt his anger approach the boiling point.  She must have seen it because she quickly reached out and grabbed his hand.

"Stay." she pleaded.  "Stay with me tonight.  I don't want to be alone!"

"Annie....." he exclaimed, shocked.

She shook her head.  "Not like that.  Just hold me."  She started to cry again.  "Please, Horatio.  Just hold me."

Without another thought he moved to sit beside her on the bed and wrapped his arms around her.  He gently kissed her temple and then leaned back against the headboard.  Annie moved closer and placed one arm across his chest.  Her tears subsided and they slept like that until dawn.


	6. Tea, Mr Kennedy?

**__**

Tea, Mr. Kennedy?

When the mess in the study had been cleared away Kennedy sent the servants back to their beds. After locking the door he leaned back against it. He shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. His hand throbbed from its contact with his father's jaw. He cradled it against his chest as a single tear slipped from his closed eyelids and ran down his cheek.

He lost track of how long he stood there. The rain had slowed down, but the wind still blew fiercely. A cold draught came under the study door, and Kennedy shivered in reaction. The cold air brought him back to his senses, and he pushed away from the door and made his way to the stairs. He felt like an old man.

At the top of the stairs instead of heading to his own room, Kennedy turned and went to his brother's door. He stood outside for a moment, listening carefully. No sound came from within. He quietly opened the door and went inside.

The bed was empty. The remains of the brandy decanter he had smashed the previous day were still in the fireplace. The room smelled stale, as if it had been closed up for months.

Kennedy moved quickly, pulled back the curtains and pushed the window open. He leaned out, resting his hands on the sill, and took deep breaths of the cool, clean air. The rain stung his face, but he stayed there for a long time. He stayed until the shoulders of his nightshirt were drenched and his hair began to drip down his back.

Finally the wet and the cold drove him back inside. He shut the window and settled into one of the chairs to wait for his brother to come home. How long he sat there he couldn't tell, but eventually he fell into an uncomfortable sleep.

A noise woke Kennedy out of the uneasy sleep he had fallen into. At first he thought it was a part of the dream he had been having, but then the sound came again. It was quickly followed by a low-pitched voice cursing. Reg.

He jumped out of the chair and quickly yet silently made his way downstairs. In the dim light of dawn he saw his brother struggling to open the door to the study. Reg's clothes were drenched and disarrayed, and his hair was hanging loose. He gave one last twist of the knob, then in frustration he kicked the door.

"God damn and blast!"

"I locked the door," Archie said quietly.

Reg spun around to confront his brother. His foot slipped in the puddle of water left by his sodden clothing and he fell heavily to the floor. When he got himself back in a sitting position he looked up at his brother. "Are you just going to stand there?" he asked. "Or would it damage your damned officer's dignity to help me up?"

Archie just stood there. The smell of cheap gin was radiating from Reg in waves, competing with the unmistakable odor of lavender. Archie felt his stomach begin to churn at the stench.

"Oh, bloody hell!" Reg exclaimed. "Fine, have it your way. I'll just sit here for a while."

"Where have you been all night?" Archie asked.

Reg laughed. "What are you now, your brother's keeper?" He struggled to stand, supporting himself with the door at his back. "Where I was, and what I was doing, is none of your damned business, Acting-Lieutenant Kennedy." He gestured to the door. "Now how about unlocking this so I can get a drink?"

"I don't think so, Reg."

"Oh, so you're in charge around here now?" Reg's voice fairly dripped sarcasm. "I'm so glad that you came home to save all of us from ourselves!"

"You're drunk. I would suggest you go to bed and sleep it off." Archie gave a quick glance at the condition of his brother's clothes. "And you might want to clean yourself up. You are hardly fit to be seen!"

Reg pushed himself away from the study door and took an unsteady step towards his brother. "Unlock this door. NOW!"

Archie recoiled from the stale odor of his brother's breath, but then he looked closely into his brother's eyes. He searched, but could find no trace of the man Reg had once been. He had been beaten down by an inattentive and uncaring father until he couldn't fight anymore. Alcohol was his means of escape; the only way that he could break free from the ghosts that haunted him. Archie felt a rush of sympathy for his brother, but he couldn't allow that to dictate his actions. Reg had abdicated his responsibilities when he had retreated into a bottle. Somebody had to step into his place.

Archie turned and walked away from his brother. He was halfway to the staircase before Reg spoke.

"Where the hell are you going?!"

"Back to bed, to try and salvage some sleep out of this night." He started up the stairs.

"And I'm so sure that you'll find sleep easily!" Reg's words, though slightly slurred, cut sharp as knives. "Those fits can just be so exhausting, I'm sure. But as soon as Father sees that you haven't changed in that respect, I know that he'll have you packed back to that worthless ship so fast..."

Archie rounded on his brother, jumped down the stairs, grabbed Reg by his shirtfront and slammed him against the study door before he had a chance to say another word. "You're going to listen to me for once, you worthless sod!" Archie hissed the words. "You haven't done a damned thing but drown yourself in alcohol since Mother died, and I'll be damned if I'll let you start now! You wrote to me, remember? You begged me to come home and help you, REMEMBER? So we'll do things my way, or not at all! Do you understand me?"

When Reg didn't respond right away Archie shook him. "Do you understand me, Reg? Because those are my terms. If you don't like it, believe me, I'd be more than happy to return to my ship. I'll take Annie away and get her a home in Portsmouth and be back on board the Indy before you even realize what happened. Then you and Father can slowly do yourselves in with alcohol and self-pity, and no one will be the wiser. Is that really what you want?"

Reg had started to cry halfway through his brother's tirade. The tears were flowing freely down his face, and he could only shake his head in response to Archie's final question.

When he saw that head shake Archie let go of the shirt and thrust his brother away. "That's what I thought." He started back up the stairs, but he turned around for one last word. "In case you haven't noticed, Reg, I am no longer the weak link in this family."

Despite the disturbances of the previous night, Kennedy was able to sleep until nearly noon. When he opened his eyes the room was flooded in sunlight. The previous night's storm seemed almost not to have happened. Voices were coming from next door in his sister's room, so he got up, donned his robe and went to check on Annie.

He knocked on the door and then pushed it open slightly. Annie was sitting on the bed, and she looked so beautiful that Kennedy's heart caught at the sight. She was wearing a gown in an unusual shade of peach that highlighted her lovely auburn hair. Her face was flushed and her eyes were alight with laughter.

Curious as to what was causing this reaction, Kennedy pushed the door open further. Hornblower sat in a chair opposite Annie, her injured foot resting in his lap. He was bandaging the wound again, and as he did so he told Annie about an incident on board the Indy involving Captain Pellew, Lt. Bracegirdle, and a basket of pilchards. By the time he reached the part where the basket had split open, dumping dozens of the fish all over the quarterdeck, Annie was gasping with laughter and holding her sides.

"Good morning," Kennedy quietly spoke.

Annie started slightly, and turned toward the door. "Archie! We were wondering when you would be joining us. Horatio said that you could confirm everything of what he just told me about the pilchards, but I find it hard to believe." She turned back to Hornblower. "And I still don't understand what statues in Florence have to do with the whole story!" Her smile was wide and her laugh infectious, but Kennedy had not failed to notice the incipient bruise on her cheek where their father had slapped her.

He tossed a questioning look at his friend. Hornblower nodded slightly, silently letting Kennedy know that his sister was all right. He breathed a sigh of relief and went to sit beside her on the bed. Without another word, Hornblower stood and quietly left the room.

"So," Kennedy said, taking his sister's hand. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Fine, Archie." Her smile wavered a little. "I'm just fine."

"I'm sorry, Annie." He couldn't meet her eyes as he said it.

"For what, in heaven's name? You didn't cause any of it, and it wasn't you who slapped me!" Annie took her brother's chin in her hand and tilted his face toward her. "Archie, if you hadn't been there it might have been much worse!"

"And Horatio?"

Annie blushed. "I... I don't..." she stammered

Kennedy wrapped an arm about her shoulders and held her close against his side for a moment. "Don't worry, old girl. He feels the same way about you, believe me!" He leaned back to look her in the eye. "Will you be all right for a while? I need to see about repairing that window and talk to Mrs. Keller about dinner tomorrow night."

"I'll be fine." Annie said, raising her chin a little. "I am a Kennedy, after all! We're made of sterner stuff than that!"

Kennedy chuckled and kissed her cheek. "Yes, you are made of sterner stuff." He stood up and opened the door, but a sudden thought pulled him back. "Annie, if you'd rather not go to tea this afternoon I can send a message to Lord Edrington...."

"Don't you dare!" Annie pleaded. "This may be the only chance I ever have to meet an earl! Even if I have to hobble over there on one foot, I'll do it!"

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that day Kennedy carefully dressed in his uniform for the first time since leaving the Indy. He was glad he had had the presence of mind to have it cleaned by one of the maids. It had been sponged, pressed, wiped, and brushed until he hardly recognized it. Looking at himself in the mirror, he thought that it looked rather odd, however. Almost like a boy playing a game with his father's clothes.

Shaking away his melancholy thoughts, Kennedy left his room. The door to Annie's room was open, so he went in. His sister was sitting in one of the chairs, struggling to fit her shoe over the bandage on her foot.

"Hellfire!" Annie muttered under her breath.

Kennedy chuckled. "What language from such a lovely lady! What will his lordship say?"

"Oh, you!" And without another word Annie threw the shoe at her brother.

Kennedy ducked, and the shoe sailed over his head and hit Hornblower squarely in the chest. He had come up to stand behind Kennedy, and he reacted quickly, catching the missile before it could hit the floor. He moved to stand beside Annie's chair and presented it to her.

"Yours, I presume?"

Annie blushed bright red, but she still managed to maintain her dignity. "Thank you, sir." she said grandly before she began to giggle. "Although what use it is I don't know! I can't even get it on my foot!" She looked up at Hornblower and then at her brother, both of whom wore their dress uniforms. "My goodness! You both look wonderful!"

Kennedy glanced at his friend and had to admit the truth of his sister's comment. Unlike himself, Hornblower looked perfectly at ease in his uniform. There was none of the awkwardness that he showed in civilian dress. He stood tall and straight, looking as if he were made to wear such clothes. Kennedy felt a moment's jealousy of the white lapels on his friend's jacket; the mark of his rank, and his hand strayed to the white patch on his collar.

Hornblower caught the motion out of the corner of his eye, but he ignored the gesture. Of all people he knew how lucky he was to have received his commission. He also acknowledged that it was only the fact of imprisonment that had prevented Kennedy from doing the same, and any jealousy would be gone in the blink of an eye. They had been through too much together to ever let such a thing get in the way of their friendship.

"How am I supposed to get down to the carriage?"

Annie's question startled both men from their thoughts. Hornblower opened his mouth to respond but Kennedy jumped in ahead of him. "I guess I'll just have to carry you. Brotherly privilege, you might say." He put a hand under her elbow and assisted her to her feet, then lifted her and held her against his chest. The trio made there way out to the waiting carriage. Kennedy carefully set his sister inside and then climbed in and sat beside her. Hornblower took the seat opposite, and they set out.

During the ride to Edrington Manor Annie was uncharacteristically silent, especially in contrast to her high spirits of earlier that morning. Kennedy loosely held her hand, but his thoughts were miles away, back on that beach on the coast of Brittany. Hornblower too found his mind dwelling on memories; memories of an exploding bridge, of cannon fire on a beach, and of a calm voice penetrating the haze of pain and grief that was growing around him. _I think we are well done with this place_. Simple words, really, but with a wealth of meaning.

He looked over at Kennedy and found his friend looking directly back at him. They shared a common thought at that moment, and each smiled ruefully in acknowledgment of what might have been. But neither of them was interested in dwelling on what they had been through, so when Annie innocently asked what the earl was like, they both leapt on the subject.

"Older than you probably think," was Hornblower's response.

"Young, tall, and handsome," was Kennedy's. "Everything an English nobleman should be." he continued, laughing as he said it.

"Except that he is also intelligent and rather clever," Hornblower said, a slight edge to his voice. "I don't believe those are qualities often valued in the nobility." He glared at his friend, daring Kennedy to contradict him.

Kennedy only laughed more. "True, Horatio! Only too true." He glanced at his sister and saw the confusion on her face. "Don't worry, Annie. He's actually a fairly regular sort, once you get to know him."

At that moment the carriage came to a halt at the foot of a broad, sweeping stone staircase. Annie looked out her window at the imposing facade before her and turned a surprised, and somewhat nervous, face to her brother. "He's actually a fairly regular sort?" she asked, parroting Kennedy's words.

Kennedy smiled reassuringly. "Absolutely! The most regular!"

Two footman came down the stairs and opened the doors on either side of the carriage. Kennedy alighted quickly and went to help Annie down. When he moved to lift her as before she vehemently shook her head. "No, Archie. I'll be introduced standing on my own two feet."

Kennedy ignored her protest and lifted her in his arms. "Sorry!" he said with a grin. "But since you can't stand on your own two feet, I think I'll just carry you." He looked up just as the front door opened and Edrington came out to greet them.

At first Kennedy hardly recognized the man. He was dressed in civilian clothes and smiling broadly. When he came out of the shadow of the front door the sunlight glinted on his blonde hair. As soon as he spoke the sense of unfamiliarity fell away.

"Mr. Kennedy! And Mr. Hornblower! Its a pleasure to see you both again. Welcome to Edrington Manor."

Kennedy mounted the stairs, still holding Annie in his arms. At the top of the flight Annie jabbed him sharply in the ribs, and he carefully set her down, still supporting her with an arm about her waist.

"My lord, allow me to present my sister, Annabelle."

Edrington took in Annie's injured foot in one quick glance, and when she made to curtsey he caught her hand to forestall the motion. "There's no need for that," he said. "I can see that you've hurt yourself." He smiled again and bowed to her. "Miss Kennedy; it is an honour to meet you." He straightened up. "Come inside, all of you. Barton?" The butler appeared in the doorway. "Show our guests to the drawing room, please."

Kennedy picked his sister up again and followed the butler into the house. Hornblower hung back for a moment, admiring the architecture of the manor. When he noticed Edrington looking at him speculatively he spoke to forestall any questions. "Its beautiful, my lord."

Edrington accepted the words at face value, and decided against asking anything. "Yes, it is. My father had a great deal of work done to the house when he first inherited it. The central block dates back to the time of Henry V." He gestured Hornblower inside and followed the younger man into the hall. "If you are much interested in the manor's history, I'm sure my mother would be more than happy to enlighten you. Its her great passion in life."

Hornblower's face brightened at that. "I would indeed enjoy that, my lord. Thank you."

Edrington smiled slightly. "Don't thank me just yet! You may not escape for days if my mother senses a keen interest in you!"

When they entered the drawing room Kennedy and Annie were already there. Annie was sitting on the sofa opposite the huge fireplace, but her eyes were taking in the entire room. Kennedy was roaming about the room absorbing everything. He stopped in front of the fireplace and stared at the Edrington coat-of-arms that was carved on the centerpiece of the mantle. When he heard their entrance he moved to sit in one of the chairs near his sister.

Hornblower took the seat beside Annie. Before anyone could speak there were voices outside the door, and the sound of a cane tapping the hardwood floor. Edrington moved to the door and opened it wider to admit the two women who had come in.

At the sight of the older of the two both Hornblower and Kennedy jumped to their feet. She was tiny; at least a foot shorter than any of the men, and she walked somewhat unsteadily with the assistance of her stick. But there could be little doubt as to who she was. Although somewhat faded, her hair was still a vibrant golden shade and every feature of her face was indelibly stamped on her son.

Edrington moved to take her arm and guided her to a chair. Once she was seated he stood behind the chair and introduced their guests.

"Mama, this is Lieutenant Hornblower, and Acting Lieutenant Kennedy, of His Majesty's frigate _Indefatigable_, and Miss Annabelle Kennedy." He gestured to each in turn. "Mr. Hornblower, Mr. Kennedy, Miss Kennedy, this is my mother, the Dowager Countess of Edrington."

As he bowed to the countess Hornblower's unruly mind jumped to the past. He could clearly hear Edrington's memorable words on a rather memorable occasion: _My mama could beat them off with her parasol_. He felt a blush creep up his cheeks and he bowed lower in an effort to hide it. When he straightened up, however, his eyes met the earl's. It was obvious that he too was recalling that conversation, for his cheeks were also stained a bright red.

"Henry?"

The quiet voice startled Hornblower out of his reverie. Hornblower and Kennedy turned toward each other. _Henry? _Kennedy mouthed the question before he grinned. Hornblower could only shrug and bite his lip to keep from laughing.

The single word was spoken by the young woman who had come into the room with the countess. She was tall; indeed nearly as tall as Edrington himself. She had towered over her companion. She was slender but with a shapely figure clearly outlined under her simple gown of pale green. Her honey colored hair was loosely piled on her head with tendrils gently curling around her face.

Edrington's face perceptibly softened when he turned to her. He moved to stand beside her, taking her hand. "Gentlemen, Miss Kennedy. May I introduce my fiancee, Lady Sarah Elliot?" When all three had acknowledged the introduction Lady Sarah turned back to Edrington.

"Henry, I though perhaps we could have tea outside in the garden today. Its so lovely out; much too lovely to be inside."

Edrington smiled gently at her, completely altering his face. "Of course, my dear, if you like." He moved back toward the chair. "Mama? Would that be acceptable?"

The dowager grinned. "Eminently acceptable, Henry." She got to her feet with the assistance of her son. "Perhaps you could help Miss Kennedy? She seems more in need than I."

Annie blushed at the attention being focused on her, and Hornblower came to her rescue. "There's no need, my lady. I can help Miss Kennedy." And he lifted her out of the chair and moved towards the doors leading to the garden.

Kennedy watched his friend carry his sister, so he went and offered his arm to Lady Edrington. "M'lady, I would be honored to assist you." And they made their way out to the garden.

Edrington and Lady Sarah were last. When she placed her hand in the crook of his arm she said softly "I like them."

He grinned at her and kissed her cheek. "I knew you would!"

Outside in the garden they settled into chairs. Hornblower again sat beside Annie. Kennedy watched the two of them; watched as his sister blushed and laughed in response to Hornblower's remarks. When he turned his attention to his host he saw that Edrington had not failed to notice their closeness. Kennedy found himself hoping that he might have a chance to talk with Edrington later. He instinctively trusted the older man; remembering his calm and controlled demeanor during the failed mission in Muziallc.

Three servants came out of the house just then with the tea things. Edrington pulled a watch out of the pocket of his waistcoat and checked the time.

"I was expecting two more guests, but perhaps we could go ahead without them." he said. "Sarah, if you could....." He gestured to the tea table, but before he could finish his sentence Barton came outside and announced the arrival of the other two guests.

"Mr. Robert Chamberlain and Miss Emma Chamberlain."


	7. Edrington

**_Edrington_**

            "You do realize that he's completely besotted with your sister, don't you?"

            "Hmmmm."  Edrington's words eventually penetrated Kennedy's befuddled brain.  "Heh?  What?"

            Edrington nodded to where the rest of the party was still gathered about the tea table. "Hornblower is completely besotted with your sister." he said.  "Not that I can blame him.  She's a lovely girl, Archie.  Do you mind if I call you Archie?"

            "No.  Of course not."  What else could he say?  "What did you mean by that comment, my lord?  About Horatio and my sister."

            Edrington smiled; a secretive smile that somehow emphasized every aristocratic line of his face.  He gestured toward the expanse of lawn, and he and Kennedy began to walk.  "I simply meant that he seems much taken with her.  I didn't mean to imply anything else."

            Kennedy snorted derisively in response.  "Bah!  He thought he was in love in France also!  We all know how that ended!"

            Edrington stopped underneath the spreading boughs of an enormous oak tree and turned to Kennedy, his expression now all seriousness.  "I didn't say he was in love with her, Archie.  I said he was besotted with her.  There is a difference, you know."  He thought for a moment.  "Actually, its very similar to what happened with that French chit.  What was her name?"

            "Mariette."

            "Ah, yes!  Mariette."  Edrington started to walk again.  He was silent for some moments, while Kennedy waited in a positive ferment to hear what he was thinking.  Finally the pressure was too much and he erupted.

            "Well?  I imagine you have more than that to say on this subject.  Odd, isn't it, that you seem to know more about my best friend and my twin sister than I do."

            Edrington had the good grace to look abashed at Kennedy's words.  He rested his hand on Kennedy's shoulder for a moment.  "I'm sorry, Archie.  I was just trying to gather my thoughts.  Of course I don't know you sister and your friend better than you do.  But what I do know better is human nature, and this situation is a fascinating study.  The similarities to the situation in Muziallc alone..."

            "My lord!" Kennedy shouted.

            "Sorry, I sometimes get ahead of myself."  Edrington grinned. "And you may call me Hal, Archie.  Now need to bother with 'My lord'.  And only my mother ever calls me Henry."

            Kennedy smiled in return.  "Hal, is it?  As in Prince Hal?"

            "Exactly."

            "All right.  Now that that's settled, perhaps you would continue with what you were saying about Horatio and Annie."

            "I was simply thinking that Hornblower always appears at his best when he has a role to play.  In this case, as in the case of Mariette, he can step into the role of white knight striving to protect the fair damsel in distress."  Edrington thought some more. "Truth be told, as much as I admire and respect Hornblower for his good qualities, I rather fancy that he is so in love with the navy that any woman would pale by comparison."

            Kennedy had to laugh at that remarkably accurate assessment of his friend.  Before he could respond, however, Edrington continued.

            "I imagine that if he marries at all it will be out of some sense of obligation and duty.  Certainly not for love."  He took a moment and stared up at the sunlight filtering through the oak leaves.  "Although I suppose if he were to fall in love it would be so completely and passionately that he would scarce know what to do about it!"

            They were both laughing at this point, but Kennedy's mirth faded as something else Edrington had said finally sunk in.  "My lord..."  Edrington gave him a look.  "Hal, what did you mean by describing my sister as a fair damsel in distress?"  Realization hit Kennedy like a broadside out of a heavy fogbank.  "What have you heard about my family?"

            Edrington blushed a little, but he still managed to look Kennedy in the eye.  "That's part of the reason I invited you, and your family, here today.  I wanted a chance to talk to you."  He took a deep breath.  "You do know that the village is rife with gossip about your father, don't you?"

            "No.  I had a feeling, but I didn't know how bad it was."

            "Its bad, Archie.  Very bad.  One of my tenants who sells in the village market keeps me informed of what's going on."  Edrington stared off into the distance before continuing.  "There's a great deal of talk of drunken binges, and tavern brawling. I've not given much credence to it, but..."  His words trailed off.

            Kennedy laughed, but his laughter held a bitter note.  "Why not give credence to it? Its all true!"  His voice grew louder and more agitated.  "My father is drunk more often than he is sober, and it doesn't surprise me that he'd get himself involved in a brawl or two.  And my brother is no better!"

            "Archie..."

            Kennedy totally ignored Edrington as he continued.  "And, to make matters even worse, I find out that the proposed marriage of my sister to Robert Chamberlain has never even been proposed!"  He began to pace underneath the trees.  "Everybody just thinks its been proposed.  And I have a sneaking suspicion that my brother made up the whole story!  Worse?!" he barked, repeating his earlier word.  "How the bloody hell could it get worse?!!"  He stilled his motion and looked back towards the house.  He could clearly see Emma Chamberlain, her dark hair shining in the sun.  She was seated beside Annie, and the two of them were chatting and laughing like old friends.

            Kennedy's words had shocked Edrington.  "What do you mean, the proposed marriage of your sister and Chamberlain?"

            Kennedy shot his companion a sardonic glance.  "Don't tell me you haven't heard that rumor? And here I thought it was the most popular one!"  He took a breath and let it out in a heavy sigh.  It was no use being angry, he told himself.  Everything would just have to work itself out.  "I'm sorry.  I know that its nobody's fault, but I can't help thinking..."

            "You wonder if things would have been different if you had been here.  If you hadn't been a prisoner of war and then trapped in some godforsaken Breton village on the most ill-conceived mission ever to come out of the Admiralty."  Edrington did nothing to disguise the bitterness in his voice as he spoke.  He turned and began walking back to the house.  "Well, my friend, unfortunately things probably would be the same.  Life has a funny way of doing what it wants."  He glanced sidelong at Kennedy.  "Now, are you going to explain what you meant by your sister marrying Chamberlain?"

            Kennedy smiled ruefully.  "It hardly matters, does it?" He clasped his hands behind his back and launched into the story.  He left nothing out, including his conversation the previous day with Emma and the conclusions he had drawn.  "So you see, right now I hardly know what to think.  Miss Chamberlain did promise to speak to her father about this and see if the question had ever been raised.  I imagine its all just wishful thinking and creative imaging on my brother's part."

            "Well, you're about to find out."

            "What?"

            Edrington nodded toward the house, and Kennedy looked that way.  Lady Sarah was coming down the path, and at her side was Emma Chamberlain.  Edrington did not fail to notice the blush that immediately stained his friend's cheeks, and he smiled secretly to himself.  Kennedy seemed frozen in place, so Edrington walked forward and took Lady Sarah's arm and steered her back to the house.  His last words, although spoken quietly, drifted back to where Kennedy stood rooted to the spot.

            "Come along, my dear.  I think our young friends need to have a few words."

            Kennedy was too shocked to move, but he felt himself blushing fiercely.  He knew it was useless to try and hide it, but nevertheless he turned his face away, cursing his fair complexion.  When he looked back he saw Edrington glancing over his shoulder.  The older man raised his eyebrows and smiled.  You're on your own, his look seemed to say.

            "Mr. Kennedy..."

            Kennedy snapped his attention back to Emma.  "My name is Archie."  His words came out sharper than he intended, his voice still tinged with a bit of anger.  He saw Emma take a step back in reaction, and he quickly reached out and caught her hand.  "I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have barked at you like that.  But since you had invited me to call you Emma yesterday, I thought turnabout was fair play."

            Emma smiled and relaxed.  "All right, Archie."  She blushed slightly as she said it.

            Kennedy noted her rosy cheeks and smiled to himself.  His heart was elated at the thought that she was as affected by him as he was by her.  "Would you care to walk with me, Emma?"

            She nodded her assent, and they set off down the path.  They walked in silence for a time, each sneaking glances when they thought the other wasn't looking.

            "Mr. Kennedy."  Emma smiled.  "I'm sorry - Archie!  I spoke with my father last night.  He confirmed what I told you yesterday.  Your father has never spoken to mine about his marrying your sister.  I don't know why everyone seems to believe that an agreement has been struck.  Even Annie thinks that everything is already decided.  She seems to simply be waiting for the date to be announced!"

            Kennedy stopped walking and stared at Emma.  "You spoke to Annie about it?"

            "Yes, I did.  I thought it was best that she know the truth."  Her chin went up slightly, and she had a defiant tone in her voice.  "I would like to consider her my friend, and as such I couldn't keep this from her.  She is quite relieved about the matter now."  She cast a sideways glance at the man beside her.  "You're not angry, are you?"

            "Angry?  Why should I be angry?  You spared me the difficulties of having that conversation with her."  He looked up at the beautiful blue sky and grinned.  "I can't say I was enjoying any of this!  I never thought it would be my responsibility to discuss her future marriage with my sister."

            Emma laughed.  "No, I suppose not.  Very few brothers do think along those lines.  But its been taken care of now.  So, you see, you don't have anything to worry about!"

            "Except figuring out exactly how this whole mess began!  If it wasn't my father..."  Kennedy grimaced. "I hardly know what to think, but I do have to deal with it.  Father is likely to react badly when I broach the subject with him."  And that, he said to himself, is the understatement of the decade.

            Emma sighed.  "Yes, there is that.  Do you still wish for my father and I to dine with your family tomorrow evening?"

            Kennedy turned to face her.  "Yes! More than ever!"  He suddenly became aware of the fact that he was still holding her hand, and his face reddened as he stared at their entwined fingers.  "I would very much like to have you and your father there when I speak to my father about this matter."

            Emma had been greatly aware of her hand in his the entire time they had been walking.  His blue eyes had met and held hers as he spoke, and the fervency in his words had touched a chord in her.  For whatever reason, Kennedy was nervous about the whole situation and in need of reassurance.  Emma gave his hand a gentle squeeze, and was delighted when he smiled in response.  Kennedy tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and they continued their walk.

            When they returned to the garden the tea things had been cleared away and quiet had settled on the gathering.  Lady Sarah and Annie were conversing in low tones, punctuated by an occasional peal of laughter.  Edrington slouched low in a chair, his long legs stretched in front of him and his face tilted up to the sun.  An expression of pure contentment was on his face, rather like a cat after an especially delectable dish of cream.  Each time a giggle bubbled from either of the ladies his lips quirked upward in the slightest of smiles.  Except for that small movement any observer would think him sound asleep.

            Three members of the party were noticeably absent, however.  Kennedy was about to question Lady Sarah about Hornblower, Mr. Chamberlain and Lady Edrington when a quiet voice came from behind him.

            "They've gone inside.  Mama is giving the grand tour and her most in-depth lecture on family history."  Edrington stirred himself and sat up in his chair. "She never misses a chance to show this place off."

            Lady Sarah sighed deeply and shook her head.  "You're not being fair, darling.  You know how proud your mother is of this house, and of her children."

            "Children?"  Kennedy asked.  This was the first he had heard of the major having any siblings.  He had been under the impression that he was the only child.

            Edrington shot his fiancee a look that would have curdled cream, but she blissfully ignored it.  Raising her hand to her lips, she blew a kiss in his direction before settling back in her chair.  Kennedy directed Emma to a chair before sitting down himself.

            Edrington grunted.  "Outvoted again!" he said under his breath.  But his eyes were soft as they watched Sarah, and his smile spoke volumes.  He turned back to his guests.

            "Yes, Archie.  Children.  I have an older sister, Alexandra, and a younger brother, William.  Alexandra is married to Viscount.... somebody or other."

            "Ainesley, Hal." Lady Sarah said.  "Viscount Ainesley."

            He acknowledged the information with a brief nod before going on.  "She lives in Pembrokeshire.  My brother is in the army, like myself.  Lieutenant The Honorable William Hugh Edrington."  A brief laugh.  "That's exactly how he styles himself; he won't leave out one bit of his title or his name."  He glanced shrewdly at Kennedy.  "I think you'd like him, however."  An idea seemed to occur to him.  "I expect William home tomorrow.  Why don't you join us for dinner?  All of you."  His gesture encompassed Emma and Annie.  "I'm sure William would appreciate the company of such lovely young ladies."

            Kennedy opened his mouth to respond, but Annie got there before him.  "Actually my lord, my brother has invited Miss Chamberlain and her father to dine with us at Rosefield tomorrow night.  It will be Hor... I mean Mr. Hornblower's last night with us, so we were thinking of something of a going-away celebration, weren't we, Archie?"

            Edrington's brow furrowed.  "Hornblower's last night?  I thought he had been granted more leave?"

            "He had, my lord, but that leave had been granted by Captain Pellew."  Annie continued in a voice too cheerful to be believed.  "He's been transferred. To HMS _Renown_."

            Kennedy gave the briefest of nods in response to Edrington's questioning look.  "Its true.  He needs to leave the day after tomorrow so he can return to Portsmouth to take up his new posting.  So you see, Major...."  He let his sentence trail off.

            Edrington stood and began to pace about the garden.  Although he did not really know either of them that well, he could not conceive of Hornblower without Kennedy, or vice versa.  He had witnessed the strength of their friendship himself at that bridge, and, to his surprise, had found himself envious of their bond.  Except for his brother, Edrington had been isolated from virtually all of his contemporaries from the age of fourteen, when his father had died and he had suddenly found himself an earl.

            At that moment Lady Edrington appeared in the doorway, with Hornblower beside her and Chamberlain trailing behind.  She was speaking softly; so softly, in fact, that Hornblower had to hunch over slightly to hear her.  Edrington caught one word in the whispered discussion: Agincourt.  The words erupted from him before he could stop them.

            "Good God, Mother!  Would you please stop trotting that moldy old story out for every guest that sets foot in this house?"

            "What about Agincourt?" Emma piped in.  "I haven't heard the story, my lord, but I would certainly like to."

            "As would I." Annie said.

            Edrington glanced at Kennedy, who gave him a sheepish shrug in response.  "Sorry, but I would also like to hear it."

            The earl threw his hands up in disgust.  "Very well, if you all insist!  Mother, I believe you have the floor."  He looked down at the grass under his feet.  "Or the ground, I should have said."  And he collapsed back into his chair and studiously ignored the rest of the group.

            The dowager countess kept her audience enthralled with the tale of the first Viscount Edrington, fighting bravely and saving the life of his king on the field at Agincourt.  Except for an occasional derisive grunt from her son, all was silent until she had finished. She had not sat while she spoke, choosing instead to pace the small patch of grass.  Despite needing the assistance of her stick, she was remarkably agile as she acted out certain things, much to the delight of her listeners.

            At the end she was standing beside her son's chair.  She reached out with her cane and sharply poked his legs as he slouched, ankles crossed.  He jumped up, startled by her sudden movement, and she moved away and gracefully took a chair across from him.

            "Henry hates all these stories." Lady Edrington announced.  "Perhaps when he has children of his own," she glanced meaningfully at Sarah, "he'll feel differently."

            Edrington just sat in his chair, an enigmatic smile on his face.

            Lady Sarah stood up and went to stand beside her fiancee.  "That's not fair, my lady!  You know that he just dislikes hearing them over and over again!"

            Edrington reached out and pulled Sarah down to perch on his leg.  "Thank you for defending me, my dear."  He kissed her cheek before setting her back on her feet and then rising to his.  He went and knelt before his mother's chair, clasping her hand in both of his.  He looked so like a penitent seeking absolution that Kennedy had to laugh.  The sound shattered the scene and set everyone else off.  Lady Edrington cuffed her son on the ear, but she was grinning as she did so.

            Robert Chamberlain spoke up at that moment.  "Mr. Kennedy, my daughter tells me that we are to dine with your family at Rosefield tomorrow night.  I look forward to it."

            Kennedy blushed a little and glanced over at the earl.  "Actually, sir...."

            Edrington jumped in at that point.  "Actually, I would be pleased if you would all dine here at Edrington Manor tomorrow night.  My brother is due to arrive home on leave, so it would be a celebration of sorts."  He glanced at Hornblower."  As well as a going away dinner.  I understand from Mr. Kennedy and his sister that you've been transferred to a ship of the line, Mr. Hornblower.  My congratulations."

            Hornblower accepted the hand that was offered to him, as well as the good wishes of the others.  He looked over at Kennedy with a question in his eyes, and Kennedy nodded in response.

            "On b..b..behalf of my friends, my lord, we would be honoured to dine with you and your family tomorrow night."  He blushed as his slight stammer betrayed his awkwardness.

            Edrington clapped him on the back.  "Splendid!"  He turned to Kennedy.  "Your father and brother are both included in the invitation, Archie."

            For a moment Kennedy panicked at that thought of his father and Reg, drunk and angry at Edrington Manor.  But there was nothing he could do but give his assent.

            After that it was time to leave.  Kennedy was distracted by his thoughts of the upcoming dinner, so Hornblower carried Annie and installed her in the carriage.  As he was about to walk out the front door Edrington caught his sleeve and held him back for a moment.

            "Archie, there is another reason I wanted to have all of you here."  He seemed edgy and nervous, almost at a loss for words.  "I wanted you to have the support of as many friends as possible in dealing with your father and brother.  I hope I've not overstepped my bounds."

            Kennedy looked into the earl's handsome, aristocratic face, and felt a shock of realization.  Despite what had passed between them in Muziallc, Edrington respected him, and perhaps even liked him a little.  It was a dizzying sensation.  For most of his life Kennedy had been too withdrawn to truly build any friendships; first because of his fits, and later because of Simpson's abuse.  But Hornblower was his friend, and now Edrington was offering him a helping hand, and the support of friendly faces in a trying time.

            "Overstepped your bounds?"  His voice was incredulous.  "My God, Hal, that is probably the most generous thing anyone has ever done for me!  I can't even begin to thank you!"

            After an afternoon of being the blusher, Kennedy was relieved to see the red stain creep up Edrington's cheeks.  "You don't have to thank me, Archie.  Just don't get yourself killed in your next engagement, all right?"  His lips quirked in his distinctive half-smile.  "Besides, I don't think Miss Chamberlain would be pleased at that, do you?"

            Oh well, Kennedy said to himself.  Back to blushing.  He peered out the door and watched as Emma and her father climbed in their carriage.  She waved until they were out of sight.  Kennedy trotted down the steps and fairly leapt into the carriage.  Hornblower had taken the seat next to Annie, leaving Kennedy to the backward facing seat.

            As the carriage pulled around the bend in the drive he looked back toward the house.  Edrington and Lady Sarah stood arm in arm at the top of the stairs, waving as their guests drove off.  The last glimpse Kennedy had of the couple Edrington pulled his fiancée closer to him for a kiss.


	8. Father & Son

**__**

Father & Son

When they arrived back at Rosefield Jenkins was waiting with the afternoon post. One letter in particular immediately grabbed Kennedy's attention. It was addressed in Captain Pellew's distinctive, sprawling hand. He held the letter carefully, as if afraid that it would scorch his fingers. His reluctance to open it was not lost on Annie; she announced that she was tired and wanted to rest before dinner. Kennedy was grateful to her for devising a way to give him the privacy he craved, but as he watched Hornblower carry her up the stairs Jenkins approached him, a look of trepidation on his face.

"Mr. Kennedy" he cleared his throat before going on. "Mr. Edward Kennedy would like to see you. 'As soon as he returns', he said."

Kennedy felt his heart plummet to his toes with those words. All day he had managed to convince himself that his father wasn't a problem. Even his conversation with Emma Chamberlain hadn't put a dent in his optimism. But know here he was, confronted by his worst fears. He tucked Captain Pellew's letter carefully in his waistcoat pocket and turned to the butler.

"Thank you, Jenkins. He's not in the study, is he?"

"No, sir. I believe he's waiting in the gun room"

Great, Kennedy thought to himself, that's just perfect. Having a delicate conversation with a drunk in a room full of weapons. He rolled his eyes heavenward. Why do I always have all the luck? He was halfway down the hall to the gun room when he suddenly turned back. "Jenkins, is he...?"

"Sober, sir?"

Kennedy nodded.

Jenkins looked thoughtful for a moment. "Not precisely, sir. But he's more aware than I've seen him in a long time." The butler coughed quietly, a rather embarrassed expression on his face. "He does have quite a swollen jaw, however. And he does appear to remember how he got it. Sir."

"Wonderful." Kennedy muttered under his breath. He turned his back on the butler and made his way to the gun room. He knocked on the door and in response to his father's acknowledgment he opened the door and entered. "You wanted to speak to me, Father?"

Edward Kennedy was seated behind the small desk that was kept in the room for use during a hunt. He looked up at his youngest son. His face was pale, but without the rosy alcoholic tinge. His eyes were red-rimmed, with dark circles underneath. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week. And, as Jenkins had mentioned, there was perceptible swelling along the left side of his jaw.

He held up a hand and beckoned his son into the room, and Kennedy noticed that the hand shook as it hung in the air. He had come into the gun room anticipating a battle, but now his instincts were telling him that it was something vastly different. He had a sudden feeling that his father was re-awakening again to the world around him.

Edward Kennedy sat and watched his son approach, marveling at how different he seemed. The difference was not physical; in that regard he was almost identical to the fourteen year old boy that had been pushed into the navy. The difference was in the way he carried himself, with a confidence he had never possessed before. It was also in his eyes, which were full of a calmness and a wisdom beyond his years. He scarcely recognized the young man before him as his son.

He struggled to find the words to express what he was feeling. After so many months of drowning himself in misery he had finally broken the surface. Something had snapped the previous night, and despite the fact that he had been drunk at the time, he remembered it vividly. For the first time in her life he had struck his daughter. That was the image that kept running through his mind. He had a vague memory of Archie's fist cracking into his jaw, and the swollen cheek to prove that it had happened. But when he had awoken that morning all he could remember was the sting in his hand as it made contact with Annie's cheek. He had cried for the first time in months, and then taken the three bottles of brandy he kept in the wardrobe and thrown them out the window. Now he sat, confronted by his younger son, and he was shaking. 

Archie sat across the desk from his father and waited. The silence between them was tense, but neither made a move to break it. Archie was reluctant to speak; partly because he was nervous that any wrong word could set his father off. But he was also aware of the fact that his own anger was very close to the surface. The previous night's incident was fresh in his mind, and he unconsciously clenched his fist.

Edward saw the clenched fist and felt a small stab of fear. Archie had already proven that he would do almost anything to defend his sister, and Edward did not doubt his son's resolve. He felt his own hands shaking, and stole a quick glance at a bottle of whiskey that stood on one of the shelves.

Archie did not miss that quick glance at the bottle. Anger boiled over, and he stood up, leaned across the desk and stared his father down, blocking his view of the shelf. "Don't look at the bottle, damnit, look at me!" he growled. "You wanted to talk to me, so talk!"

"Archie, I..." Edward cowered against the chair back, trying to distance himself from his son's anger. Archie's fiery blue eyes filled his vision, leaving him with no where to go. Almost involuntarily his eyes flickered to one side, seeking reassurance.

Archie caught the slight movement and spun away from the desk. He grabbed the whiskey off of the shelf and slammed it down on the desk immediately in front of his father. "Is this what you wanted, Father? Will this make it easier to talk to me? Will this make it easier to remember that you struck your daughter?"

Edward shut his eyes and turned his head away. It did him no good, however. Archie was finally giving his anger full rein, and he relentlessly badgered his father. "No? Well, if its not the whiskey, Father, than what do you want?" He moved decisively and jerked open one of the gun cabinets. He laid his hand on a beautiful silver-chased dueling pistol, part of a set that had been a gift for Edward's fiftieth birthday. He pointed it directly at his father's chest. "Is this what you want?" He threw the pistol down on the desk and then leaned closer to Edward. "The way I see things, Father, you have two choices." He pushed the whiskey bottle closer. "You can kill yourself slowly." He nudged the pistol nearer. "Or you can end it quickly. Its up to you, but I won't do a bloody thing to stop you." And he stood back and waited to see how his father reacted.

Edward had flinched away from his son's anger, but when faced with Archie's contempt his own temper surged. With one explosive gesture he swept the top of the desk clean. The whiskey bottle shattered against a bookshelf, and the liquor soaked into the pages of the books. The dueling pistol crashed into the wall, leaving a pale scar in the dark paneling. The stench of the whiskey was almost overpowering in the small room, and it took tremendous effort for Edward not to turn his head and look at the puddle of liquid that was growing progressively larger.

Archie had been shocked by his father's sudden violence, and every muscle in his body clenched, waiting for Edward to strike out. The only sounds in the room were the ticking of the case clock, the steady drip of whiskey on to the floor, and Edward's strained breathing. The moments ticked by, the tension grew, and still Archie waited.

Edward's outburst seemed to drain him and he collapsed back in his chair. He shut his eyes in an effort to block the tempting sight of liquor. Against his will the tears started to flow, slipping underneath his closed eyelids to slide down his cheeks.

At the sight of his father's tears Archie was completely dumbfounded. He felt himself relax slightly, and he slowly sat back down. He wanted to speak, but the words caught in his throat. He sensed that Edward was fighting inside himself, and he feared putting himself in the midst of that battle. Still, he made an effort. "Father..."

Edward held up one hand to stop his son's words. That hand was trembling perceptibly, but Edward seemed unaware of it. He opened his eyes and stared at his son. When his words finally came, they came in a rush. "I'm sorry." he said. His breath caught on a sob before he continued. "I don't know what else I can say. I hardly even know..."

"Father, please!"

"No, Archie! Let me finish!" Edward took a deep breath and lowered his eyes. "I hardly even know what I'm apologizing for! These last few months are nothing but a blur. But I do remember what happened last night." He touch a finger to the swelling on his jaw. "You pack quite a punch, son." He smiled wanly. "I'm not sure what can be done to make up for all the months I've been hiding, but I'd like to try. Starting now."

Archie was unsure how to react to his father's words. A part of him desperately wanted to believe what Edward was saying, but he still held back. "You should be apologizing to Annie, not to me." He deliberately made his voice harsh. "Do you have any idea what she's been through recently?"

Edward closed his eyes as a pained expression crossed his face. His voice was soft as he spoke. "She must hate me. My finest treasure, and I've destroyed her."

Archie felt his anger fade away at his father's words. He could remember his father referring to Annie as his "finest treasure" when they were young. For Edward to recall those words now seemed to indicate that he was sincere in all that he said. "She doesn't hate you, Father. But she doesn't understand why all of this is happening! How can she?" Archie decided to take an enormous risk. "She misses Mother just as much as you do."

Edward smiled, a watery grin that matched the new tears that caused his eyes to glimmer in the half-light. "She's so like her mother." He shook his head in bemusement before again meeting his son's eyes. "It hurts sometimes to look at her."

Archie felt his own throat clog with unshed tears. It was an awkward moment to realize that he had not cried for his mother since hearing of her death, but he fought against giving in to the impulse. Even so, the tears came. Not in great gulping sobs, but gently and slowly, like a spring rain shower. He wiped his face once, and noticed his father watching him.

"Your homecoming should have been happier than this." Edward said

Archie laughed in rueful acknowledgment of the truth of that statement. "Its all right, Father. Its a lot happier than it was just an hour ago!" His expression became serious again. "I am very happy to see you back to yourself, sir."

Edward grunted, and wiped the last vestiges of tears from his cheeks. "I'm happy to be back to myself. I only hope I can stay." He looked out the window. "It won't be easy, I know that. But I have to, especially for Annie's sake."

Archie nodded agreement, then froze. Edward noticed his unnatural stillness, and felt a brief jolt of fear chase down his backbone. Before he could say a word, however, Archie had jumped up from his chair and was pacing the tight confines of the room. "Father, I have to ask you something." He stopped in front of the desk. "Please don't get upset, but can you remember anytime in the last few months that you may have discussed a marriage for Annie?"

"Marriage? No, I can't recall..." He thought for a moment. "Well, perhaps in a general way I may have mentioned it, but certainly nothing specific. With most of the young men in the district off fighting in the war there's hardly a likely candidate, is there?"

"No, there isn't." Archie agreed. "And you never considered Robert Chamberlain?"

"Who?" Edward asked. "Oh, yes, the new owner of Marsden Hall. No, I never thought of him. He's more than twice her age!" Edward looked at his son with a trace of his old shrewdness in his eyes. "Why all the questions, Archie? Is there something I should know about?"

"Yes, there is something you should know." He thought of Reg. "But I'm not yet ready to tell you just yet." He looked at his father. "Do you trust me to handle the matter?"

In reply Edward stood up and moved around his desk to stand in front of his son. The two men stood eye to eye, then Edward reached out and placed his hands on Archie's shoulders. "Of course I trust you." His voice was thick with emotion when he continued. "I was wrong about you, Archie. I was always wrong, and I'm glad that you proved it." He again touched a finger to his swollen jaw and laughed. "But I do wish you hadn't been quite so forceful in doing so!"

Archie had no words to offer in return. He simply reached out and embraced his father as more tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. Edward returned the embrace with a tight throat and a light heart. He sent a short prayer heavenward, giving thanks that he had been given this chance to be a father again.

The crackling of a piece of paper caught both men's attention. Edward pulled away from his son first. "What the devil is that?" he asked, gesturing to Archie's waistcoat pocket.

Archie pulled Captain Pellew's letter out and held it up. "Its a letter from my captain. I didn't have a chance to open it before." He put one finger under the flap and broke the seal. As he read the letter his jaw slackened and his eyes widened. When he was finished he looked up at his father with a stunned expression. "The Indy has to stay in port for a least a month while she's being re-fit." he told Edward. "My leave has been extended for the duration. But...."

"But what? Is something the matter?"

Archie grinned then, a wonderfully impish grin that reminded Edward of the irrepressible boy he had once been. "I'm to take my examination for lieutenant before we put to sea again! I could be a commissioned lieutenant by Christmas! I could be earning more pay and getting more prize money! I could be..." His enthusiasm suddenly evaporated, to be replaced by youthful anxiety. "I could be dumped back in the midshipman's mess if I fail!" He met his father's eyes, a look almost of panic on his face. "What if I fail? I'd let everybody down; you, Captain Pellew, Horatio. Even Annie!"

Edward took hold of Archie's shoulders and gave him a shake. "You won't fail! You're a Kennedy, and Kennedys are made of sterner stuff than that!" He couldn't resist a small jest at his son's expense. "Still, it would do no harm if you studied!" He voice turned serious again. "I'm proud of you, Acting Lieutenant Kennedy." And he embraced his son once more. When he stepped back both men were smiling. "Now," Edward said. "Lets go find your sister, shall we?"

Annie was sitting in the drawing room when they caught up with her. She had her injured foot propped up on a chair and was staring out the window at the remnants of the rose garden. Edward's face blanched at the sight of her bandaged foot, but Archie nudged him forward. Annie turned to face them as they came into the room, a look of wariness replacing her smile when she saw her father.

With slow and measured steps Edward approached his daughter and very carefully sat beside her on the sofa. She lowered her eyes to her lap and studied her clasped hands. He glanced up at the portrait of his late wife, and seemed to draw strength from it. His voice was firm when he finally spoke. "We need to plant some new roses, don't you think, Annie?"

Annie looked up at those words and met her father's eyes. She tentatively smiled and slowly nodded her head. "Yes, I think we should."

Her soft voice seemed to open the floodgates. With tears in his eyes and a shaking hand Edward reached out and touched the bruise on her cheek. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. Instead he simple gathered his daughter into his arms and held her as the tears streamed down his face. Annie too was crying, but with an angelic smile on her face.

Hornblower entered the room at that moment and stopped, stunned and amazed to see an apparently sober Edward Kennedy embracing his daughter; the pair of them in tears. He turned to his friend.

"Archie, what is going on?"

Kennedy's smile, while not as angelic as his twin's, nevertheless lit his entire face. He put one hand on his friend's shoulder as he spoke. "Nothing is going on, Horatio. Nothing and everything!" He laughed joyously. "Everything is going to be fine!"


	9. Moments of Truth

**__**

Moments of Truth

Dinner that evening had been an informal affair, with much conversation and laughter. Edward had spent the meal regaling Hornblower with tales of Archie and Annie as children, and Hornblower had returned the favor with stories of life on board the _Indefatigable_. A sober Edward was able to exert a considerable amount of charm, and Hornblower softened from his usual reticence.

Kennedy had sat and watched the easy interaction of his father, his sister, and his best friend. He himself felt more at ease then when he had arrived, but at the back of his mind a worry still nagged. Reg was not at home. According to Jenkins he had gone out just before dinner, with no word as to where he was bound or what time he expected to return. Despite his joy at having his father back, Kennedy knew that there were still questions to be asked, and his instincts told him that only Reg would have the answers.

When told about the invitation to Edrington Manor, Edward's face had paled, but he agreed to go. That brought a measure of ease to Kennedy's mind, but he still felt unsure. Before dinner he had dispatched a message to Edrington, detailing the change in his father and expressing his hope that it spelt the end for his family's troubles.

"She's really quite sweet, Father. You'll like her. Archie certainly does!"

The sound of his name dragged Kennedy's thoughts back to the table. Annie was smiling at him, but with a mischievous gleam in her eye. Hornblower kept his gaze on his plate, but his grin was also unmistakable.

Kennedy glared across the table at his sister. "What exactly has brought my name into this?"

Before Annie could answer Edward spoke up. "I was just asking about the Chamberlain's, Archie. Considering what you told me earlier, I'm understandably curious." He smiled at both of his children. "Annie was just telling me about Emma."

"Oh was she?" he asked, looking murderously across the table at his sister. Annie's only response was an impish smile and a wink.

"I must say she sounds like a perfectly charming girl. What did you think of her, Hornblower?"

Hornblower looked at his friend before replying. Kennedy narrowed his eyes and shook his head slightly, as if to say "Don't you dare!" Hornblower took the warning as meant, and confined his remarks to generalities.

Kennedy breathed a sigh of relief when his father appeared to drop the subject, but his relief was short lived. For when he moved his gaze from his friend he found his father's eyes on him, shrewdly assessing his seeming disinterest in the subject of Emma Chamberlain. He had forgotten, if indeed he ever really knew, just how intuitive his father was. He laughed inwardly at the idea that he could ever have hidden anything from Edward.

After dinner Edward took Hornblower out for a brief tour of the grounds. As they went out the door Edward was already bubbling over with ideas for re-planting the rose garden. Hornblower looked a little dazed at the flow of information. He mentioned that in six years in the navy he hadn't seen many roses, but Edward rolled right over that. He was in high spirits, and there was no stopping him. Hornblower followed along rather meekly, uttering an occasional Yes sir and No sir in response to questions.

Kennedy carried his sister into the drawing room and set her gently on the sofa. He sat in the chair opposite her and took a deep breath. Annie had been reaching for her book, but at his in-drawn breath she stopped and met his eyes.

"What's bothering you, Archie?"

"I..." He swallowed hard. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

Annie smiled slightly. "What, pray?"

Her eyes were knowing and shone like emeralds in the light. Kennedy had a sudden image of himself as a boy, caught in some mischief and brought to his mother to answer for it. He had the same feeling now with his sister that he had then. He fidgeted in his chair under the impact of her gaze.

Well, better to get right down to it and take it like a man, he told himself. "I want to talk to you about Horatio." He watched his sister closely for any sign of a telltale flush at mention of the name, but her cheeks remained pale. For no reason her composure irritated Kennedy; perhaps because of his own inability to remain unruffled when Emma Chamberlain was mentioned.

"What, no maidenly flush?" His voice came out sharper than he intended. "You were certainly quick enough with your blushes this morning!"

Annie gave her brother an appraising glance and turned away from him to pick up the embroidery she had been working on. "If you have something to say to me, Archie, perhaps it would be best if you said it." The needle flashed in and out of the linen; her hands were steady, but the chill in her voice was like ice.

"All right, I will." He stood up so that he could look down to where his sister sat. "I don't want you encouraging him, Annie. He'll be back on board ship in a couple of days, and then back at sea. Its no use pretending any different, and if you think he'll give that up for your sake, then you are sadly mistaken!"

Annie set the embroidery beside her on the sofa and viciously stabbed the needle down. She looked up at her brother, not in the least bit cowed by him as he stood over her. "And just which of us are you more concerned for, Archie? Are you so worried that I'll hurt him, ruin his career, spoil his future?" Her voice began to rise with the tide of her anger. "Or is it me you're worried about? Are you afraid I'll be so devastated by his leaving that I'll do some harm to myself? Or is it something more? Perhaps you believe that I'll unthinkingly give myself to him before he leaves, thereby spoiling whatever decent marriage chances I have!"

She stood up then, eye to eye with Kennedy. "Well, I have a bit of news for you, Archie. I am neither that stupid nor that self-loathing! So you can cease fretting about your friend and me. I promise, I'll do nothing to ruin either of our reputations!" She abruptly sat back down, aware again of the pain in her foot.

Chastened by her words, it was a moment before Kennedy could bring himself to speak. "Annie, I didn't mean..."

Annie cut him off, her voice sharp as a knife. "I know exactly what you meant, Archie! What I can't understand is why you would consider, even for one moment, that I would do anything of the kind! Am I so different to the girl you remember?"

Kennedy knelt in front of his sister and took both of her hands. "No! You aren't different at all! I just don't want..." He stopped, not quite sure how to express his thoughts. "I don't want you to get hurt. I know he's intelligent, and handsome, and he can be charming. But, Annie, Horatio is in love with the navy! That is where he belongs; where he's happiest!" He looked into Annie's eyes. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Annie laughed and reached out a hand to brush a lock of hair back from his forehead. "Did you think I wouldn't figure that out for myself?" She began to laugh harder. "Oh Archie! You sweet, adorable, fool!"

Dumbfounded now, Kennedy could do little but sit back on his heels as his sister gave way to merriment. Despite his earlier discomfort and her anger, he couldn't help but smile at seeing her so happy. Only when her laughter had quieted, and then died, did he speak again.

"Are you finished?" he asked, a smile in his voice and his eyebrows raised.

One last giggle escaped; Annie clapped one hand over her mouth and nodded. When she removed her hand she was grinning broadly: a beautiful smile that reached to her eyes. "I'm sorry, Archie, but if you could have seen your face..." She swallowed another round of laughter. "But to think you were so concerned about how I feel about Horatio leaving!"

Kennedy got up from his knees and sat besides his sister. "Well, you have to admit I had reason to wonder! You two have grown quite close in the brief time you've known each other. What else could I think?"

Annie shook her head. "You could have given me some credit for brains, Archie!" She sighed deeply. "I may have been entertaining thoughts along those lines, but seeing him in uniform..." She laughed a little. "Well, that made it perfectly clear! He's not meant to stay on land and have a regular life, with a wife and children." She looked off into space for a moment. "Although I'm guessing that he doesn't yet realize it."

Now it was Kennedy's turn to laugh. He shook his head at his own foolishness and put an arm around his sister's shoulders. "Yes, I should have given you more credit. Its strange, because Edrington said almost exactly the same thing this afternoon."

"What did he say?"

"That Horatio was so in love with the navy that any woman would pale by comparison." He looked pensive for a moment. "But I fancy there's more to it than that. At least in this instance." He looked at Annie sitting quietly at his side, her eyes intent on him. "Our last mission... I can't tell you everything, Annie, but we were in France, in Brittany, with Royalist troops and a half-battalion of British infantry. That's how Horatio and I met Lord Edrington. There was this girl in the village..." He stopped speaking, his mind flashing back to powder smoke and musket fire; to his terror as he ran across that bridge - the fire of the explosions singeing his hair and the tails of his coat; to a beach and an empty sea.

"Archie?"

Kennedy shook himself out of his memories. "I'm sorry. The experience is still rather vivid." He smiled slightly at those words, an understatement if ever there was one. "There was this girl. Horatio wanted to protect her; I think he believed he was in love with her."

"What happened?"

"She was killed. Shot by Republican troops. Her own side. She had hurt her ankle somehow, and couldn't run. Horatio was helping her and supporting her with an arm around her waist. She was shot in the back, and she was dead before she fell to the ground." He saw the understanding dawn on Annie's face. "So you see, Horatio is still reeling from the whole experience. Its like he's trying to feel his way through a whole maze of emotions that he's never felt before. Add into that his obvious attraction to you and it makes for an awkward situation all 'round, don't you think?"

Annie was thoughtful for a time, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. "I imagine he also feels guilty because I'm your sister."

"Yes, I would imagine that's part of it."

She picked up her embroidery again. "Well, no reason to worry. I'm not going to lose my head over a little flirtation and a couple of kisses." A blush rose on her face as she remembered the couple of hours asleep in Hornblower's arms, but she resolutely pushed those thoughts from her mind. "I would be pleased and honored to call Horatio my friend, and I hope he feels the same way."

A quiet knock on the door intruded into the conversation. Jenkins entered the room, bearing a message on the silver calling card tray.

"From Edrington Manor, sir." he announced.

Kennedy had already recognized the seal before Jenkins had said a word. He quickly opened and read the missive.

__

Archie,

I was extraordinarily pleased to read that your father has begun to make his way back to himself. I know it cannot be easy, but you may trust in me to help in any way I can. Lady Edrington, Lady Elliott and myself look forward to your presence at dinner tomorrow evening with pleasure. Please convey my regards to your sister and father, as well as to Mr. Hornblower.

In Friendship,

H. E.

"Well, I guess we are still expected at Edrington Manor tomorrow. Thank you, Jenkins." The butler acknowledged the thanks with a brief nod and left the room just as Edward and Hornblower came in. They were talking animatedly, if somewhat breathlessly. At least on Edward's part. He had not regained his breath, and was hurrying to keep up with Hornblower's longer strides.

When he noticed his twins sitting there Edward came to an abrupt halt, but only for a moment. He took a chair across from his children and immediately resumed the discussion, pulling Archie and Annie in.

"I'm surprised, Archie, about how little knowledge your friend has about horticulture." he said. "Although I suppose you can't grow very many plants on board a ship."

Kennedy laughed at his father's simple assessment. To Edward not being able to have a garden would be a form of hell on earth. "Yes, Father. There is very little room for gardening on board a frigate." he said, a touch of laughter in his voice.

Hornblower had blushed slightly at Edward's words, but he rallied to his own defense. "You can't hardly blame me, sir! My father was never a gardener, and as you yourself said, it is difficult to grow plants in the navy."

"What about your mother, lad?" Edward asked, innocently blundering onto a difficult subject. "I've never met a woman that didn't have some interest in gardens."

Annie looked up from her embroidery as Kennedy tensed at her side.

"Father..." she began.

Hornblower held up a hand and stopped Annie's words before he met Edward's eyes. "My mother died when I was only six, sir. I hardly knew her. But you are right in assuming she was interested in gardening. There were lilac bushes in front of our house that Father said she had planted just after their marriage." He smiled slightly; a wistful grin that said more than his words. "I always think of my mother when I smell lilacs in bloom."

Edward looked somewhat abashed at his misstep. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hornblower. If I had known..."

Hornblower brushed of the apologies. "There was no way you could have known. I don't exactly make it public knowledge. And it was a long time ago. I've long since gotten past it."

The sound of the front door slamming brought a halt to the conversation. Voices could be heard in the hall, one quiet and calm and another loud and belligerent. "Where is that self-righteous prig who calls himself my brother?" a voice demanded, the words slightly slurred.

Annie set down her embroidery at the words and turned a worried face to her brother. Hornblower had not sat down when he and Edward had come into the room, and he moved to stand beside his friend as Kennedy rose to his feet. They were all facing the door when it burst open with a crash.

Reg stood in the doorway, swaying slightly on his feet and with a satisfied smirk on his face. Edward jumped to his feet at the appearance of his elder son.

"Well, well, well. The happy family at home. With guest. How charming!" Reg exclaimed, his sarcastic tone sending a chill around the room.

Archie took a step forward, but his father was there before him. "You're drunk, Reg." Edward said calmly.

Reg laughed. "What, and you're not? Now there's a surprise! A little short on brandy supplies, are we? Never fear, Father. I've brought my own!" He pulled a bottle of gin from his coat pocket, pulled the cork and took a long drink. He carefully put the cork back in the neck and set the bottle on the table, within easy reach of Edward's hand.

Edward glanced once at the bottle and clenched his fist, but otherwise showed no reaction. He turned back to Reg. "You're drunk." he repeated. "I think perhaps you should go to bed and sleep it off. We can talk about this in the morning." He looked to where Jenkins hovered just inside the doorway. "Jenkins, would you please help Mr. Reginald to bed?"

He turned away and was resuming his chair when Reg grabbed hold of his arm. "Oh no, Father! Not so fast! I'm not leaving this room until I say what I've got to say." He turned his bitter and mocking face toward his brother. "And what I have to say concerns my oh-so-noble brother." He waved to include Edward, Archie, and Hornblower. "You all may as well sit. We may be here a while."

Archie resumed his seat beside Annie; Edward and Hornblower took the chairs on either side of the unlit fireplace. All four of them watched Reg with wary, closed expressions on their faces.

Reg rubbed his hands together gleefully, his grin broadening. "Well, where shall I begin? Its a simple story really. I have just spent a most fascinating evening in the company of a sailor. A man by the name of Chambers." He looked at Archie and Hornblower. "Ahhhhh! I see that name means something to the both of you! Very good."

"Just get on with it, Reg. " Archie said stiffly.

"Don't rush me, little brother. Now, it seems this man Chambers is acquainted with the both of you." He pointed at the two younger men. "Seems he served on board the _Justinian_ and knows a few things about that ship." He noted with satisfaction how both his brother and Hornblower were sitting rigidly, their faces set in stone, revealing nothing.

"In particular he told me about things that were known to take place in the midshipman's berth. Would you know anything about that, Archie?" Archie looked away. "No? Well, what about you, Hornblower?"

Hornblower unwaveringly met Reg's stare but for one quick flash of the eyes toward his friend. "I know a great deal about what went on in the midshipman's berth on board _Justinian_, Reg. Far more than either Chambers or yourself could ever know."

Reg laughed, but it was completely without humor. "I suppose you were in on it also." he said maliciously.

"In on what?" Edward asked.

Reg turned to his father. "I am so glad you asked that! All manner of degenerate things, Father. Bullying, beatings, brawling. But what Chambers really remembered was all the talk of buggery."

"Of what?!"

"Bug-ger-y." Reg said the word distinctly and clearly so that there would be no misunderstanding. "In short, Father, sodomy. Your precious son and a chap by the name of Simpson..."

Archie had shot to his feet at the mention of that name. He opened his mouth to speak but his throat closed tight on the words. He felt his hands begin to shake. His sight grew blurry and darkened around the edges. The last thing he remembered before pitching face forward to the carpet was Annie's cry of alarm.


	10. Demons & Damsels

**_Demons & Damsels_**

When Kennedy next opened his eyes it could have been minutes, or hours, later.  He wasn't quite sure.  The dull ache in his head was horribly distracting, so he closed his eyes again before taking stock of his surroundings.  He was lying down on a soft surface, and his first thought was at least its not the floor.  The room was dark except for a soft glow off to his right.  He gingerly turned his head that way and slowly opened his eyes.

Annie sat in a chair beside his bed, the light from the lamp casting her features in gold and turning her hair bronze.  She was leaning slightly to the left, and her head was slumped to her breast.  Her breathing was soft and even.  She was asleep.

Kennedy was not aware of making any sound, but Annie started out of her doze.  She seemed confused for a moment, unsure of where she was, but then her eyes focused on her brother.  She slid from the chair and knelt alongside the bed, taking his hand in hers.  "Archie!  Are you all right?  How do you feel?"

The expression of concern on his sister's face was all Kennedy needed to bring memory rushing back, He shut his eyes as a tidal wave of blush swept up his neck and over his face.

"I had a fit, didn't I?" he asked quietly.  Disgusted with himself, and not willing to meet his sister's eyes and see the pity in them, Kennedy pulled his hand free of hers and turned his head away from where Annie sat just as she reached out to brush his hair from his forehead.  Stung, Annie quickly pulled her hand away and rested it on the bed.  She felt her throat clog with tears, but not for anything would she cry at that moment.  Instead she leaned closer and rested her forehead against Archie's cheek.

She stayed there until she heard his breathing deepen and take on a slow, regular rhythm.  When she lifted her head the lines of strain had smoothed out in his face and his features were relaxed.  She stayed a few moments more, watching him sleep, before she gently kissed his cheek, stood, and left the room.

Hornblower was pacing the hallway outside the bedroom door.  As soon as Annie emerged he opened his mouth to speak, but she forestalled him.  She held a finger to her lips in a gesture entreating silence as she quietly pulled the door to behind her.  When it was closed she sagged back against it, all her strength and will ebbing away in the blink of an eye.

"Is he all right?" Hornblower asked.

Annie shook her head.  "I don't really know.  Physically, yes.  But as to anything else..."  She looked at Hornblower steadily and searchingly.  He flushed slightly and dropped his eyes to the floor.

Whether it was the fact that he couldn't look her in the face or the nervousness of his stance, something in Hornblower's demeanor set Annie off.  She reached out, grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hall to his bedroom.  She shoved him through the door before shutting it quietly.  She stood in front of the door, leaving him no way out.

"I want to know what Reg was talking about, Horatio."

Hornblower sighed.  "I don't really think you should know, Annie.

At that comment Annie caught fire.  "Bloody hell!  I don't care if I should know, I WANT TO KNOW!"  She advanced across the room, almost as if she were stalking him.  "That's my brother in there, suffering God only knows what.  My twin brother, for heaven's sake!  Can you look me in the eye and deny that I have a right to know what brought this on?!  In the name of God, why does everybody insist on protecting me?!"

Hornblower stood quietly, letting Annie's anger flow until she was spent.  When she hung her head and her shoulders began to heave with silent sobs, he reached out and guided her to sit in one of the chairs.  He gingerly sat on the edge of the bed, across from her so they could look directly at each other.  While he waited for her sobs to diminish he composed himself for what he had to tell her.  " I don't know everything, Annie. " he began quietly.  "But I will tell you what I do know.  It won't be pleasant; I hope you understand that."

Annie nodded solemnly.  "I understand, but I still want to know.  If it effects Archie, it matters to me."

Hornblower smiled slightly at the determination in her face and voice.  He took a deep breath and began the story.  "When I first came on board the _Justinian_ things were fine.  Granted, I missed my father and my home, and was in strange and unfamiliar surroundings, but I could handle that.  Archie was the first of the midshipman to extend a friendly hand, and I desperately needed it.  He taught me how to find my way around the ship, the system of watches, and how to keep out of trouble."  He stopped speaking, his eyes taking on a far away look as he drifted with the memories.

Annie sat still and didn't interrupt.  She sensed that Hornblower needed to talk about these things as much for his own as for her sake; exorcising the demons, as it were.  It was certainly a different view of her brother's friend, a far cry from the confident and assured young man she had met just a few short days ago.

"That first week passed by so quickly I hardly had time to think about being miserable." Hornblower continued.  "But then..."

"Then what, Horatio?"

Hornblower shook his head to dispel the dark thoughts clouding his mind.  "Then Simpson came back to the mess.  He had failed his lieutenant's exam, you see, and so he was put back with the midshipman for six months."  His voice became hard and flat, unemotional and detached.  "Simpson was nothing but a bully.  He used his position as senior midshipman to torment and abuse the rest of us.  Especially Archie."

"I never actually saw Simpson sod..."  He swallowed hard and managed to choke out the word.  "Sodomize Archie, but I heard all the talk, and I saw how Archie reacted to Simpson's presence.  He withdrew, wouldn't talk to anybody, and stopped smiling.  And he started having fits again."

"What happened to this man, Simpson?"

"He's dead.  Captain Pellew shot him."

Annie waited for Hornblower to continue, but he simply stared at the carpet under his feet, unwilling to say anything else.  She looked at him shrewdly.  "I think there's more to this story.  Isn't there?"

Hornblower gave a quick, sardonic laugh.  "Oh, yes.  There is definitely more to the story."  He looked up and met her eyes.  "Before his own death Simpson had managed to make my life a hell on earth, he killed a good friend, and it was through his actions that Archie ended up in prison.  Do you think that's enough?"

Annie drew back away from Hornblower, stunned at the bitterness in his voice.  She started to stammer out an apology, but he forestalled her words.

"What do you have to be sorry about?  You didn't cause any of this, and you certainly couldn't have done anything to prevent it!"  He laughed again, but this time with a touch of genuine warmth.  "Actually, I'm surprised at myself.  I thought I was over everything, but I guess its been festering under the surface all this time.  I suppose its a good thing to let it out."

"Well, it couldn't hurt!" Annie said with an answering laugh before turning serious again.  "Who was the friend that was killed?"

"Clayton, Jon Clayton."  He took a deep breath before continuing, determined to get the whole story out.  "One night in the mess Simpson beat me senseless."  He ignored Annie's gasp.  "I decided that the only way to get all of us free of him would be for him to die.  So I challenged him to a duel.  Clayton agreed to be my second, but before we could leave the ship he knocked me unconscious with a belaying pin, and he took my place.  Simpson killed him."

Annie thought for a moment, absorbing what Hornblower had said.  She had heard his words as well as everything he had left unsaid.  "It wasn't your fault, you know."

Hornblower looked at her, puzzled.

"Clayton's death.  It wasn't your fault.  He chose to take your place.  Nothing you might have said would have changed his mind."

Hornblower's expression became agonized.  He told the rest of the story in a barely audible whisper.  "I got there just as Clayton was dying.  I remember him saying 'You were right, Horatio. Someone had to stand against him.'.  I don't think I'll ever forget those words.  And how can I not blame myself?  If I hadn't stupidly started that duel, he would be alive today!"

"But if you hadn't done that, Simpson would probably also be alive!" Annie said, reaching out to take Hornblower's hands.  "He'd still be alive and tormenting somebody else.  Your friend Mr. Clayton obviously understood that, and chose to put himself in danger for the chance to end the abuse."  She clasped his hands tighter.  "And it was Simpson's finger on the trigger, not yours.  The blame is all on him for being so willing to kill."

Hornblower listened to Annie's words and felt comforted by them.  He had been carrying around the guilt of Clayton's death for years, but he recognized that it was time to let it go.  Both he and Kennedy had their own lives to live.  And its high time we both did exactly that, he told himself.

He met Annie's eyes and smiled.  "How did you get to be so wise at such a young age?" he asked.

Annie laughed out loud.  "That's odd, coming from you! I am a year older than you, remember?"  Her expression became sober again.  "I'm not wise, Horatio.  But I've seen what guilt and grief can do to people, and I think you are too fine a man to have that kind of shadow hanging over you for the rest of your life."

"Annie..."

She held up a hand to halt his words.  "Don't say anything else, Horatio.  No need to spoil this moment of understanding, is there?"  She stood up and moved to leave the room.  As she opened the door she half turned back to face him.  "Good night, Horatio." she said, so quietly that he almost didn't hear her.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The morning sun on his eyelids brought Kennedy awake with a jolt.  When he opened his eyes a stab of pain pierced his skull, so he shut his eyes tight against the lingering effects of a headache, and lay quietly in his bed, luxuriating in the peace and quiet of the moments alone.

A crash and a clatter in the room next door brought him upright.  He waited, breathless, for a moment.  When he heard Annie's voice, low pitched and mumbling to herself, he smiled and eased back down to the pillows.  Annie had always been clumsy first thing in the morning.  When they were children she had been forever dropping things, and had broken more water basins than their mother had cared to know about.  It lent a startling sense of normality to the day.

At least it did until he remembered how the previous evening had ended.  It had been over four months since he last had a fit.  He had forgotten the feelings of embarrassment and mortification that always accompanied such an occurrence, as well as how exhausting it was.  He remembered Annie sitting beside his bed, worried about him, and he felt an overwhelming anger with himself that he had rejected her concern and treated her so poorly.

A soft knock at the door caught his attention.  Before he had a chance to reply the door opened slightly and Annie peered around it's edge.  When she saw that he was awake, she came the rest of the way into the room.  She stood nervously, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, clenching her hands together, and staring at the floor beneath her feet.

"Good morning." he said.

Annie looked up from her study of the carpet, and at the sight of the wan smile on her brother's face she darted forward to sit on the edge of the bed.  Kennedy sat up at the same time and the pair came together in an embrace that needed no explanations.  The previous night's tension was forgotten in that instant

After a few moments Annie pulled away to study his face.  She smiled in return.  "Good morning, yourself." she replied.  "How do you feel this morning, Archie?"

"Fine" he said.  "A little tired, and with a bit of a headache, but other than that, I'm fine.  I'll be fine."

Kennedy looked into his sister's face, so close to his own.  Her eyes still held the vestiges of the hurt he had inflicted on her the night before, but there was a spark of courage in those emerald green depths, and her smile was as warm and gentle as always.  He knew in that instant that it was all right; that no apology was necessary.  He reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand, giving thanks for this one woman who understood him so completely without words.

"What did I ever do to deserve a sister like you?"

Annie laughed and playfully swatted at one of his hands.  "Who says you deserve me?  Its not like I have very much choice, is it?  I'm stuck with you."

Kennedy grinned.  "And I'm so sure that it disgusts you, being stuck with me like this!"  His face grew serious.  "Annie, I don't know how to..."

Annie shook her head.  "Don't!  Don't thank me, don't apologize.  I don't need to hear that.  I'm just happy that you're all right; I don't need, or want, anything else."

"But there is something else that I need."  He steeled himself to talk about Reg's accusations.  "I need to tell you the truth.  I don't want you imagining all sorts of evil things, especially after what Reg said last night."

"You don't need to tell me anything, Archie.  I talked with Horatio last night, after I left your room."  She blushed slightly as she said it.

Kennedy didn't notice her blush, he only heard the words.  "Horatio can't have told you everything, because he doesn't know everything.  I don't think he even knows half of it."

Annie shook her head.  "I don't need to hear.  I know all that is important to me.  That you were bullied and abused on that ship, and that the man who did that to you is dead.  But I also know that you've become a better man for it.  I guess suffering does make us stronger, wouldn't you say?"  She gave a small, sardonic smile, and her voice took on a sarcastic edge.  "_Justinian_" she mused.  "Not a very good name for a ship like that.  I'm sure there was very little justice to be had."

"Did Horatio tell you how Simpson died?"

"He said that your Captain Pellew shot him."

Kennedy absorbed the simplicity of that statement, and decided to leave well alone.  Annie didn't really need to hear the whole story of Simpson's death as Hornblower had revealed it to him one night in that Spanish prison.  In that moment he realized that some things were best left unsaid.  But just to be sure, he asked his sister one last time.

"Are you sure you don't want to know anything else?  Just ask, and I'll tell you."  He grimaced slightly.  "It won't be easy, but I will tell you."

Annie shook her head decisively.  "I don't need to hear another word. I know you couldn't..."  The sound of creaking in the hallway outside the room brought her words to a stop.  The door was slightly ajar, and they both waited, almost holding their breath, for whomever was out there to continue walking past.  When no steps were heard Annie got up from her perch on the edge of the bed and quietly moved to the door.  She stepped in front of it and pulled the door open wide.  At that point she froze, shock visible in every set line of her body.

From his vantage point across the room all Kennedy could see was her stiff shoulders as she confronted whoever was there.  He could hear the low-pitched voices, but not make out any of the words.  After more than a minute of tense conversation, Annie stepped back from the door, and admitted Reg.

Kennedy immediately pushed back the blankets and got to his feet, determined to confront his brother while standing.  However, his head had other ideas; a wave of dizziness overcame him and he sank back down to sit on the bed.  He shook his head slightly to clear it, then looked up and met his brother's eyes.  "What do you want, Reg?"  He deliberately made his voice as cold and as harsh as possible.

Reg glanced toward Annie.  "I need to speak to you."  His eyes drifted back to their sister.  "Alone."

Archie looked to Annie and caught the tiny shake of her head.  Whatever else might happen, she wasn't about to desert him.  "Anything you have to say to me you can say in front of my sister."  He put the slightest of emphasis on that "my", making it clear to Reg that the twins would stand united against him.  "But frankly, Reg, I can't imagine what we might have to talk about.  You said your piece last night, and, I must admit, you did it in a dramatic fashion.  A performance worthy of that well-known actress, Katharine Cobham."  He paused and studied his brother's face.

Reg grew uncomfortable under Archie's unflinching scrutiny.  He blushed and began to fidget.  But on no account was Archie going to feel pity for him; whatever tender feelings he might have harbored for his brother had been nearly irrevocably shattered by the accusations that had been tossed about the previous evening.

"I do have one question for you, though."  Archie's voice broke the uneasy quiet.  "Why did you lie to me, Reg?"

"What..."  His voice caught and he cleared his throat before continuing.  "What do you mean?"

Archie stood up again, slower this time, and was relieved that his head didn't start spinning.  He stood with an almost unnatural stillness, calling on every ounce of self-discipline he had learned in his years in the navy.  He clasped his hands behind his back in an unconscious imitation of Captain Pellew, and even his voice took on the growling tone and intensity of the captain at his angriest.

"What do I mean?  You know full and bloody well what I mean!  You lied to me from start to finish.  All those letters begging me to come home, horror stories of Father's drunkenness, worry about Annie.  It was all nothing but a packet of lies!  And I fell for it like the rawest Snotty in the fleet!  Does that make you feel better?  Do you feel like more of a man because you bested me, Reg?  Because if you do, I would suggest you enjoy it while it lasts, because it won't last very long."

As he was speaking he had been unaware of moving closer to his brother, but when he paused to draw breath he found he was standing just inches away.  To his credit, Reg hadn't flinched as Archie approached, but he couldn't look his brother in the eye.

His voice grew quieter; a virtual whisper heard only by Reg.  "I've figured it out, you know.  I know all about how you concocted that tale of Annie being forced to marry Robert Chamberlain.  You knew that if anything would bring me home and make me willing to stay a while it would be some sort of threat to Annie.  But I know the truth now, so you can't manipulate the situation anymore.  Its over Reg.  All of it"  He had raised his voice for those last words so that Annie could hear them.

Reg reacted to Archie's words by backing away toward the door; his face flushed with anger.  He laid one hand on the doorknob before firing one last parting shot.  "We'll see about that, little brother." he said, practically spitting the words across the room.  "We'll see about that!"

After the door slammed shut Archie finally turned around and faced Annie.  She was standing beside the hearth, white-faced with fear.  He smiled at her to ease the tension that was palpable in the room before he collapsed back on to the bed.

Annie moved to sit beside him.  She leaned her head against his shoulder, and Archie put an arm around her.  "You looked and sounded very commanding just then, Archie."

He looked down at her face, veiled by the fall of her hair.  "And that surprises you?"

"Well, not every man can be so commanding and in control while in his nightshirt."

Archie looked down at his calves, bare underneath the hem of his nightshirt and started to laugh.


	11. Dinner? At Edrington Manor?

**_Dinner?_****_ At Edrington Manor?   _**

Later that same day Kennedy sat in the gun room with his father.  They could hear the sound of saws and hammers working to repair the damaged window in the study, but other than that the house was silent.  Annie was in her room preparing for dinner that evening, and Hornblower was out walking the grounds.  As seemed to be his habit, Reg had disappeared just after luncheon.  During the meal he had been surly and sarcastic, and had consumed a great deal of wine.  No one was really sorry to see him go.

Edward had made no mention of the previous evening's uproar, for which Archie was grateful.  He seemed more concerned with learning all the details of how his son had made the acquaintance of the Earl of Edrington.  By the time Archie had finished telling the story, Edward's eyebrows had taken up permanent residence at his hairline, and he could not have appeared more astonished if he tried.  "And all of this was sanctioned by the Admiralty?" Edward asked, his voice incredulous.

"Not only sanctioned, but ordered." Archie replied.  "Although I suspect that it will just as quickly be forgotten."  He suddenly realized that he may have revealed to much.  Father, you can't speak about this to anybody.  I probably shouldn't have said as much as I did."

Edward nodded.  "Of course.  I understand."  He looked closely at Archie.  "You seem surprisingly unbitter about all of this, son."

"What's the use of being bitter about the past?  You can't change it.  The only thing bitterness does is make your future miserable."

"Wise words from one so young."

Archie laughed.  "Well, I'm not so young as I may appear.  Fighting a war can have that effect on a person."  He sat quietly thinking for a moment before deciding to broach the subject with his father.

"Father, about last night..."

Edward simply sat and waited.

"Reg's accusations... I just wanted you to know that its untrue.  I was bullied and beaten by Simpson on a few occasions, but never anything else."  He felt a blush climb his cheeks, and he felt like a heel for lying to his father, but he couldn't bring himself to hurt Edward for anything.  It was bad enough that Annie knew as much as she did; he would keep his father in ignorance for as long as he could.

Edward simply nodded an acknowledgment, but there was something in his face that made Archie think he wasn't in quite as much ignorance as his son thought.  He stood up and said "Shall we see if you sister is ready?  It wouldn't do to be late for dinner with an earl."

Archie smiled, relieved at being off the subject of Jack Simpson.  "Yes. I'll go check on her now."

When he left the gun room he found Hornblower standing at the foot of the stairs, lost in thought.  He failed to notice Kennedy as he approached, and it was only when his friend jiggled his elbow that he snapped out of his trance.

"Archie!  What...?"

"You were fathoms deep, Horatio!  What could possibly be so intriguing?"

Hornblower sighed.  "I was just thinking about the future."

"Not the past?" Kennedy asked, a peculiar note in his voice.

He looked very solemn as he shook his head.  "No, not the past.  There's no purpose in dwelling on it."

"But it is rather difficult to avoid, especially after what happened last night."  Kennedy congratulated himself on the even tone of his voice as he spoke.

Hornblower turned to his friend, his gaze so intense that his eyes appeared almost black.  Kennedy resisted the urge to make a joke out of the moment, instead he stood still under his friend's scrutiny.

Finally Hornblower spoke.  "Archie, if I had known everything I would have helped you.  You do understand that, don't you?"

Kennedy shook his head emphatically.  "No! If you had tried to help me Simpson would have made things worse for you!  I wouldn't have wanted you to put yourself in danger for me.  It was bad enough when Clayton did it!"

A ghost of a smile crossed Hornblower's lips.  "You too?"

"Me too, what?" Kennedy asked, genuinely puzzled.

"You still feel guilty about Clayton's death."  Before Kennedy could deny it his friend continued.  "So do I.  I didn't realize how guilty until last night when Annie made me acknowledge it."

"And now?"

"I think I can put it behind me.  I think I can put everything behind me."  He smiled and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.  "Adventure and adversity, Archie!  That's not just His Majesty's Navy, that's life."

"Well," Kennedy said, trying to look pensive, but his blue eyes were definitely laughing.  "Food is also life, and we do have a dinner engagement.  Would you care to assist me in rousting my sister so we can go?"

"I don't think that will be necessary." Hornblower said, nodding his head toward the top of the stairs.

Annie stood there, looking so beautiful that Kennedy nearly staggered at the sight.  It was almost as if their mother's portrait had suddenly come to life, because Annie was wearing the very same gown and had piled her hair loosely on her head in imitation of the painting.  Both men were stunned into immobility, but as she began to descend the stairs Kennedy noticed she was still favoring her injured foot, and that simple fact broke the spell.  He held out his hand to her as she came down the final three steps.

"Are you all right to be walking on that foot?" he asked her.

Annie smiled and nodded toward Hornblower.  "Why don't you ask the doctor?"

Hornblower laughed as Kennedy took her hand and settled it on his arm.  "She's fine. I checked earlier today, and the wound is clean and healing."

Kennedy looked at his friend; blue eyes meeting brown.  "Thank you, Horatio."  He spoke quietly, but with an intensity that conveyed just how grateful he was for his friend's help.

Hornblower understood without any words.  He rested his hand briefly on Kennedy's shoulder.  When the door to the gun room opened they all turned to greet Edward as he emerged.

He stopped short when he noticed the attention focused on him, but he appeared to soak up the sight of the three young people together.  His eyes stopped on Annie, and for a moment the whole scene froze.  Then he started forward and wordlessly offered his arm to his daughter.  With a bright smile she withdrew her hand from Kennedy's arm and settled it on her father's, and together they walked out the door.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

As they drove up the drive toward Edrington Manor Kennedy saw that the house was lit up as if for a ball.  Light blazed from every window on the lower floor, and flowed down the steps from the open front door.  Edward stared open-mouthed at the sight before swallowing hard and clenching his jaw in determination.  All the same, his hand shook slightly as he assisted his daughter from the carriage and escorted her up the steps.

Barton greeted them in the entryway.  They could hear voices and laughter coming from the drawing room as the footmen took their cloaks.  They were halfway across the hall when the drawing room door opened and a cheery voice greeted them.

"Ah, the Kennedys!  A pleasure to meet you all!"

The voice came from a figure that was silhouetted against the light behind him.  Until he took several steps forward there was little to be clearly seen of him.

Annie came to a sudden, stunned halt as soon as she caught sight of the newcomer.  It was no wonder; he was tall, handsome, with a face wreathed in a warm smile and bright green eyes that shimmered with laughter.  Except for the eyes he was the absolute picture of his brother.

Lieutenant The Honourable William Edrington extended a hand, and in bemusement Edward shook it.  He presented the rest of the party, leaving his daughter for last.  As William bowed over Annie's hand his brother emerged from the drawing room to greet his guests.

Seeing them side by side the resemblance was not so startling as Kennedy had first thought.  William was taller by at least four inches, and his hair was lighter by several shades.  His cheerful and boisterous manner was also in stark contrast to the calmer, more sedate earl.

"William, I think you can bring our guests in now." Edrington said, in his distinctly dry tone of voice.

William's only response to the implied reproof was to smile even wider.  He sketched a small bow to his brother, offered his arm to Annie and swept into the drawing room with her at his side.

Edrington hung back and took a moment to greet Kennedy and Hornblower.  When presented to Edward he very gravely shook the older man's hand.  "An honour, Mr. Kennedy." he said.  "I am happy to see you looking well."

Edward looked abashed and cleared his throat before responding.  "My Lord, the honour is mine."

Edrington smiled and gestured his guests to enter the drawing room.  As they walked side by side he spoke quietly to Kennedy.  "I meant what I said, Archie.  He does look remarkably well, all things considered."  He cast a quick glance to where Edward was bowing over the dowager's hand.  "Is he all right?"

Kennedy nodded.  "A little shaky, but otherwise fine."  His glance took in the assembled party and his voice lowered still further.  "Hal, I need to speak with you."  He waved away the response Edrington had started to make.  "Its not about my father.  As you can see, he's in possession of his faculties, and he and I have already spoken about the whole Robert Chamberlain marrying Annie situation.  No, its about my brother."

Something in his face or voice must have given it away, for Edrington's eyes narrowed as he studied Kennedy.  "What happened, Archie?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

Kennedy looked over the earl's shoulder and saw Lady Sarah approaching.  He shook his head slightly.  "After dinner." was all he would say.

Sarah had reached the pair by that time, her face puzzled.  "You two look like conspirators; huddling in a corner like this.  Whatever is the matter?"

"Nothing, my dear.  Nothing." Edrington hastened to reassure her.  She looked doubtful, however, and was about to persist in her questions when Barton entered the room.

"Dinner is served." he announced.

"Saved by the butler." Edrington said under his breath before offering his arm to Lady Sarah.

"But not for long." she replied, just as quietly.  In response to Edrington's shocked look, she smiled sweetly and slid her arm through his.  Together they led the way to the dining room.

Dinner was quite enjoyable; the food excellent and the conversation stimulating.  Kennedy had blushed upon finding himself seated beside Emma Chamberlain, and he caught the quick, conspiratorial look exchanged by Lady Sarah and the dowager countess.  He need not have feared being tongue-tied in Emma's presence, however.  The conversation was largely dominated by William, who had been away from home for over a year and was eager to hear and impart all manner of news.

He found himself casting frequent glances to Annie as the meal progressed.  She was seated across the table from William, and the young army lieutenant seemed to be expending tremendous effort to charm her.  Not that he needed to work so hard; Kennedy could tell by her blushes and shy smiles that Annie was quite captivated by the younger Edrington.  And judging by the way his eyes never left her face, the feeling was mutual.

Uh oh, Kennedy thought to himself before taking a quick look at his friend.  Hornblower sat on Lady Sarah's right.  His innate shyness seemed to be in remission; he was talking animatedly with both his hostess and Robert Chamberlain, who sat opposite.  But every few moments his eyes strayed to Annie, and he could not fail to notice how she was responding to William.  A shadow of pain marred his features, and as Kennedy watched his brown eyes became shuttered and closed off.  For a moment he fancied he saw a glimpse of the boy Hornblower had been, and the pain he had suffered when his mother died.  But the look was quickly veiled, and his countenance resumed its customary impassive cast.

"How long will you be with us, Lieutenant Edrington?"  Emma's quiet voice filled the lull in conversation.  Kennedy forcibly dragged his mind back to the subject.

William managed to pull his attention away from Annie and focus it on Emma.  "Only a week this time, Miss Chamberlain.  But I've been promised an entire month of leave at Christmas, if I behave myself and am a good soldier."  His smile positively beamed with mischief.

"Then I imagine we will not be seeing you for that holiday." Edrington dryly commented.

"Henry....." Lady Sarah began before her future brother-in-law stepped in.

"A palpable hit, Major!"  His laughter was light and infectious.  "Indeed, if my leave were truly dependent on my behavior, I would never be allowed away from my regiment!"

The entire party laughed in response to William's remark.  When the servants came into the dining room to clear the last of the dishes away, Lady Sarah stood and the ladies withdrew.  As they left the room Annie and Emma had their heads together and we talking in low voices.  A quick giggle escaped from one of them; Annie turned her head and her eyes met William's.

He stood up rather quickly.  "I believe I'll just join the ladies, if you gentlemen will excuse my absence.  I'd like to spend as much time as I can with Mama while I'm home."

No one could argue with that sentiment, although Kennedy had his own ideas about William's eagerness to sit in the drawing room listening to ladies' gossip.  He had very little time to speculate, because as soon as William was out the door Edrington stood.  With an elegant gesture and a soft-spoken "Gentlemen..." he preceded Edward Kennedy and Robert Chamberlain from the room and into the library.

Once there Edrington dismissed Barton and began pouring the brandy himself.  Kennedy held his breath when the earl unthinkingly offered a snifter to Edward, but was gratified to see his father refuse and content himself with an odorous cigar instead.  He was equally surprised to see Hornblower accept both the brandy and the cigar.  He stood close to his friend and pitched his voice for Hornblower's ears alone.

"Horatio, you hardly ever drink, and I don't think I've ever seen you smoke.  Why tonight?"

Hornblower grimaced slightly.  "I have a feeling I might need it.  I know that this evening is ostensibly a celebration, but this gathering feels remarkably like a council of war."  He looked Kennedy directly in the eye.  "Have you figured out what exactly is going on with your brother?"

Kennedy tensed at that, and then relaxed with a brief laugh.  "I should have known you'd read me so well. Yes, I think I have figured it out." He looked around the room to make sure the other men were out of earshot before continuing.  "I believe that Reg invented the whole story of Father forcing Annie to marry Robert Chamberlain to make sure I came home.  But I can't figure out why!  Why was it so important that I come home now?"

Hornblower gave the question some thought.  When he replied it was with a faint blush staining his lean face; he was obviously uncomfortable with what he had to say.  "I think, perhaps, that Reg's drinking is clouding his mind.  He may not even understand why he wanted you home so badly."  Kennedy made to interrupt but Hornblower cut him off.  "Yes, yes, I know that he was, at some point, concerned about your father, but that won't wash any longer.  And the change in his behavior in just the last two days has been astounding.  I think..."  His voice cut off sharply as Edrington came to join the pair.

"Don't stop on my account, Mr. Hornblower."  He looked from one younger man to the other.  "I gather by your hushed voices and general mien of mystery that you are discussing Mr. Reginald Kennedy."  His shrewd brown eyes locked on Kennedy.  "What happened yesterday evening to prompt such intense speculation?"

Kennedy gestured to Hornblower, inviting him to tell the tale.  With his habitual honesty Hornblower left nothing out.  He described Reg's rather sudden return to Rosefield, his appalling drunkenness, and his horrid statements and accusations against his brother.  Kennedy blushed fiercely at that point but his eyes held steady on Edrington's.

Except for a slight wrinkling of his aristocratic forehead, Edrington showed little reaction to the story.  He waited until Hornblower had finished before he spoke.  Kennedy waited for the inevitable question - "Is it true?" - but it didn't come.  Edrington seemed more interested in what was to be made of Reg's increasingly erratic behavior.

Kennedy felt obliged to reveal certain facts of his acrimonious discussion with Reg earlier that day.  When he reached the end of his story Hornblower looked shocked, and Edrington as inscrutable as ever.  His eyes were intense as he gazed at Kennedy.

"If I may be permitted to theorize" he began.  "It seems that for some reason Reg's primary motive in wanting you to come home was to further alienate you from your father."  He glanced quickly over his shoulder to where Edward and Chamberlain sat.  "Is it possible that at some time before your mother's death your father was considering disinheriting Reg?  And naming you as his heir?"

Kennedy was dumbfounded; this was one explanation that had never occurred to him.  He thought about it.  "It is possible, I suppose."  He shook his head vehemently.  "No, I can't imagine it! My father forced me into the navy because I was an embarrassment!  Why would he suddenly turn around and embrace me as a scion of the Kennedy Clan?"

"But don't you see?  That's exactly what he has done!"  Hornblower's voice grew louder in his agitation before Kennedy and Edrington could hush him.  He continued, chastised and quiet.  "Once he was able to see past the haze of alcohol, he has brought you closer to him.  His attitude toward Reg last night proves it."

Edrington looked at Kennedy and raised his right eyebrow.  "I think he's got it," he said with a nod to Hornblower.

Kennedy, while still skeptical, was able to see the force of the argument.  "Well, there's one sure way to find out."  And he moved decisively toward where his father sat, complacently enjoying his cigar.

Edward looked up when his son reached his chair.  He was somewhat surprised at how awkward the three younger men appeared.  Even Edrington stood with his eyes fixed on the floor, looking for all the world like a guilty schoolboy caught in some mischief.

Deciding that there was little to be gained by softening the blow, Kennedy jumped right in with both feet.  "Father, I want to ask you a question.  It has to do Reg and why exactly he so urgently wanted me home.  We..." he gestured to include Hornblower and Edrington.  "We've been discussing matters, you see, and..."

Before he could finish the door to the library swung open and Barton entered, bearing a message.  "From the village bailiff, m'lord."

Edrington crossed to his desk, pulled out a letter opener and quickly slit the message open.  As he read it his face blanched.  He looked up to see all the men gathered around him.

"There's been an incident in the village."  His voice was strained.  "A disagreement in the tavern led to an all-out brawl on the green, and a man was knifed.  A man by the name of Chambers."  Kennedy sucked in his breath and waited for Edrington to finish.  His gaze skimmed the two naval officers before settling on Edward.  "Your son has been accused of murder."


	12. A Knife In The Back

**_A Knife In The Back   _**

Edrington wasted no time.  He immediately gave orders to have four horses saddled and ready before bursting into the drawing room with the others at his back.  When he broke the news to the rest of the party Annie paled and swayed on her feet.  Emma was at her side and quickly took her elbow, gently but firmly pushing her back to her seat on the sofa.  Kennedy quickly crossed the room and knelt before his sister.  He was unaware of the turmoil in the room; his only thought was for Annie.

He clasped her hands in his; they were as cold as ice.  She met his eyes with a haunted look.

"Archie, it can't be true."  Her voice was a choked whisper.  "You know it.  You must!"

Kennedy flashed a quick look at Emma, sitting beside Annie with her arm around Annie's shoulders.  He was loathe to speak of these things in front of her, but he had little choice.  It was time to drop all the pretenses.  "Annie, I don't know anything.  I certainly don't know who Reg is anymore."  His voice hardened with determination.  "But I have every intention of finding out."  He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek before standing.  He laid a hand on Emma's shoulder for the briefest moment before moving to join the Edrington brothers.

"No questions right now, please William!" Edrington was saying when Kennedy walked up.  Hornblower stood off to one side, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.

Edrington noticed Kennedy's presence then.  He nodded once in acknowledgment.  "Is she all right?" he asked with a quick glance at Annie.  "Good.  Let's go, gentlemen."

In the entryway they hastily donned cloaks and hats.  Edrington in particular seemed impatient to be off.  His face could have been cast in granite for all the emotion he showed, but anger radiated from him in waves.  That, and something that was almost akin to resignation; as if he had been expecting some sort of eruption and was merely accepting the inevitable.  He pulled on his kid-leather gloves as he strode out the door.

They had to wait a few moments before the horses were brought to the door.  Kennedy took advantage of the delay to say a few hurried words.  "Hal, I'm sure that my brother could not have killed this man.  Not in cold blood, at any rate."

Edrington gave his young friend one agonizingly long, searching glance.  "But in hot blood, perhaps?  Who knows what any of us is capable of under those circumstances?"  He raised one hand to pull his queue free from the collar of his cloak, and Kennedy saw that the hand shook.  Edrington must have noticed it at the same moment, because he clenched his fist so tight the leather of his glove creaked.  "I don't know what happened tonight, Archie, but its my responsibility to find out.  No matter whose brother is involved."  He met Kennedy's eyes.  "I'm sorry.  I know this can't be easy, but it has to be done.  If you'd rather not go..."  He left the sentence unfinished.

Kennedy shook his head.  "No, I have to go.  I can't ask my father to do this."

The horses arrived just then with a clatter of hooves on the cobbles of the courtyard.  With a start Kennedy recognized two of them; the roan and the bay had both been in Muziallc.  It was obvious by the way he stroked its nose that the roan was Edrington's personal favorite.  A quick glance at Hornblower showed that he shared his friend's shocked surprise.

"I'll spare you this time, Horatio."  And with a cheeky grin for his friend Kennedy mounted the bay.

"I'd rather be spared entirely." Hornblower said with a grimace.  But he gamely climbed on one of the horses just as Edrington swung himself into the saddle and kicked his heels back.  The roan started down the drive at a canter and the other three hastened to keep up.

Kennedy rode at Edrington's side.  Although it was nearly nine o'clock in the evening there was a faint glow in the sky to the west.  They didn't speak; there was no point in it until they had more facts.  Kennedy let his mind go blank; it was preferable to thinking about what might await them when they arrived.  He found himself listening to the conversation between Hornblower and William.

"I don't really understand.  Surely between the village bailiff, the constable, and the sheriff they can figure this matter out.  Why does His Lordship need to be present?" Hornblower asked.

William laughed slightly.  "Noblesse oblige, Hornblower. " The earl turned in the saddle and gave his brother an ugly glare.  "What I mean is that there is still a tremendously medieval mentality it most villages.  Justice is the local lord's business, and the folk expect him to take care of business, as it were.  Especially in an area like this, where old Anglo-Saxon influences are stronger than Norman ones."

Hornblower seemed to mull this over, which distracted him from his purpose of staying in the saddle.  He listed dangerously to one side.  Kennedy glanced back at his brief cry of alarm, and had to stifle a laugh when William reached out and pushed Hornblower back upright.  Even in the encroaching darkness Hornblower's sheepish look was obvious as he thanked his companion.

Kennedy glanced at Edrington, and decided against asking him to moderate their pace.  He was tense and angry, and perhaps more than a little disgusted.  Kennedy urged a little more speed out of his horse and drew abreast of the earl.  They were out of earshot of their companions, so he decided to broach the subject.

"Edrington, do you think we might slow down?  You know that Horatio is not exactly an ideal horseman, and I'm a little out of practice myself."

Edrington didn't even look back.  "William's a cavalry officer; he can keep an eye on Hornblower."  He nudged the roan's flanks and put the animal to a full gallop.  "Catch up when you can!"   He shouted back over his shoulder.

"Damn and blast!" Kennedy mumbled under his breath before putting his heels back and thundering off in the earl's wake.

When he arrived in the village Kennedy was winded from the ride.  The horse, contrary animal that it was, wasn't even breathing hard.  He reined in outside the tavern where Edrington was just lowering himself from the saddle.  The innkeeper, Gaines, approached the pair from across the green.

"My lord.  Mr. Archie."  He greeted them respectfully.  "I'm sorry to have to bring you out like this, but..."

Edrington shook off the apology.  "Never mind all that.  What exactly happened, Gaines?"

They set off across the green toward the rough-hewn building that served as the village icehouse and, when circumstances warranted it, the village jail.  As they walked Gaines told what he knew, which turned out to be not very much.  A group of five men, including Chambers and Reg, had been seated around a table in the tavern, getting loudly and uproariously drunk.  Some sort of disagreement arose; there was a great deal of shouting and shoving before they took the discussion outside.  A few of the regular village idlers had followed the pack out, and the next thing Gaines knew one of them ran back inside shouting that murder had been done.

"I went outside and found that man, Chambers, lying on the green... Just here it was, m'lord."  He gestured to a spot off to their right.  "He had a knife stuck in his back clear to the hilt.  Mr. Reginald Kennedy" - a quick glance at Archie - "was kneeling alongside the body with blood on his hand and the cuff of his shirt.  Before I could ask him anything or he could say a word he simply fell over.  Passed out from drink, I expect." he said with another apologetic glance at Archie.

They had reached the icehouse by that time.  Edrington paused to strip off his gloves and push them into his belt.  Kennedy noticed that his hands were no longer shaking.  He reached out and opened the door.  They were met by a gust of cooler air and the homey scent of sawdust.  Mingled with it were the unmistakable scents of gin and vomit.

Edrington's nostrils flared in response, and had the situation been less serious Kennedy would have laughed at his friend's sudden resemblance to his very well bred horse.  But there was little humour to be found.  They moved toward the back of the building, and there they found Reg.  Unconscious and with a sickening combination of blood and vomit staining his right shirt sleeve.  Some of the blood no doubt came from Reg himself; his lower lip was split and his nose had contributed to the mess.

Edrington nudged Reg's shoulder with the toe of his boot.  A groan was all the response he got.  "See if you can't get through to him." he ordered Kennedy.

Kennedy squatted beside his brother, trying his best to ignore the stench.  "Reg?" he asked quietly.  "Reg, can you hear me?"  He shook Reg's shoulder, gently at first, and then more forcefully.  "Wake up, Reg.  We need to talk to you about what happened."

Nothing.

Kennedy stood up again.  "I don't think he'll be coherent for quite a while."  He looked down at his brother.  "And he probably won't remember very much of what happened."

Edrington turned away from the sorry sight and addressed Gaines.  "Keep him here.  The colder air might help revive him.  Have you sent word to the militia commander?"

Gaines nodded.

"Good.  Station three militia soldiers outside to keep an eye on him."  He turned to Kennedy.  "Now I suppose we had best have a word with the constable."

They set back off across the green towards the tavern.  William and Hornblower had caught up and were standing with all four horses.  The buzz and hum of voices could plainly be heard through an open window.

"Hal, what..." William began.

"Not now." Edrington curtly cut him off and entered the tavern.

Silence fell on the assembled crowd like a thunderclap.  All eyes were turned to the door and to the sudden entrance of the Earl of Edrington.  Kennedy had to admit the man knew how to make his presence felt.  In the dim, smoky light of the taproom the red coat and the shining brass of his military uniform shone like a beacon, and the light from the candle sconce beside the door turned his blonde hair into gold.

The sound of a glass shattering broke the spell.  Conversation resumed, albeit in a more subdued tone.  On the far side of the room a portly middle-aged man rose from his chair and threaded his way through the crowd.

"M'lord, I was just about to go to the manor to speak to you."

"Outside, Bodkin."  Edrington whirled and strode out the door, disappearing as suddenly as he had appeared.

Once outside he did not hesitate to expend a little aristocratic wrath.  "I suppose sitting in a tavern drinking ale with witnesses qualifies as 'just about to go to the manor'!  Its a damn good thing that Gaines sent a messenger, otherwise I might not have known that a murder had happened for...  Oh, I don't know!  Two, perhaps three, days?  What the devil do you think you're doing here, Bodkin?"  His voice was pitched just above a whisper, but the older man shrank back from it all the same.  "My father always trusted and respected you, and I kept you on because of that, though it was against my better judgment.  I'd hate to be proven right at the cost of seeing a man unjustly hanged!"

Kennedy started at those words.  For the first time since they had ridden out it finally sank in.  His brother was under a charge for murder.  If found guilty he would be hanged.  He felt his vision blur and his hands start to shake.  His knees felt weak and the only thought in his head was _Please God, not a fit.  Not here, not now._  By some miracle he managed to walk to the water trough at the side of the tavern, and without taking the time to think about he pulled off his hat and plunged his head under.  The cool water helped clear his head, and when he blinked the water out of his eyes he saw Hornblower standing at his side, a worried expression on his face.

"Archie, are you all right?  You look like you've seen a ghost!"

Kennedy mustered up a wan smile for his friend.  "I'm all right.  I think it finally hit me."

"Do you think Reg did what they're accusing him of?"

"I don't honestly know."  Kennedy took a moment to push his hair off his face, pulling the ribbon loose in the process.  He held the scrap of black grosgrain before his eyes.  "Damn!  I lose more of these blessed things than I can keep track off."  He met his friends eyes and sighed.  "Reg is completely incoherent.  He's not even conscious, and he's likely to remain in that state for some hours to come.  So we can't hear his side of the story just yet."

Edrington and William came up then.  Looking passed the brothers Kennedy could see Bodkin walking toward the icehouse, his shoulders slumped and dejected.

"I suppose after all of this is over I'll have to see about a new constable." Edrington said.  He finally seemed to notice Kennedy's wet and disheveled state.  "What happened to you, Archie?"

"A hostile encounter with a water trough.  Never mind what happened to me!  What did Bodkin have to say?  What do the witnesses say?

Edrington looked down at his feet before launching into the tale.  "Not very much.  And I think calling any of them witnesses is overly optimistic.  There were at least eight men involved in the fight, which means at least seven of them could have knifed Chambers.  All of them were fairly far into their cups, so not one of them can describe the sequence of events with any accuracy.  They seem to be in agreement about one thing, however; Reg was the angriest and had the most reason to want Chambers dead.  But I suppose that's just trying to cover their own assets.  Why point the finger anywhere else when a man is already under lock and key for the crime?"

"Who exactly is this Chambers?" William asked.

Kennedy spared a glance for the young cavalryman.  "I forgot; you've come in in the middle of this whole mess."  He took a moment to sketch in the bare facts of the whole story before answering William's question.  "Chambers is an old sailor.  He served on the _Justinian_ with Horatio and myself."

"Is he a deserter?"

"No." Hornblower answered.  "He was discharged for wounds sustained in action against the French frigate _Papillon_.  He was one of the men we managed to rescue after the _Justinian_ sank in that action."  Kennedy congratulated himself at not flinching at the mention of that name.

William was still puzzled.  "I don't understand.  Why would Reg Kennedy have a reason to kill an old salt like Chambers?  It doesn't make any sense."  He looked at Archie.  "Was your brother in the habit of carrying a knife?"

"No.  No, he wasn't."  His voice gained conviction.  He looked at Edrington.  "Surely that argues in his favor?"

Edrington did not look hopeful.  "Perhaps, but its hardly conclusive.  In a melee like what we have here it would have been fairly easy for a man to lay his hands on a knife.  He could have pulled it from the belt of one of the other men!  Who knows?"  He sighed and rubbed a hand down his face.  "There's nothing more that can be done until Reg wakes up and can tell us, and Gaines and Bodkin, what he remembers.  I'll stay the night at the inn to be close at hand. Archie?"

"Yes.  Yes, I'll stay as well."  Hornblower was about to speak but Kennedy overrode him.  "No, Horatio.  You have to go back to the manor.  You're supposed to leave tomorrow, remember?"  He gave a mirthless laugh.  "Not much of a going away celebration, was it?"

Hornblower simply shook his head.  "How can I leave in the midst of all this?  You asked me to accompany you home to help you, and now, when you really need help, I have to leave."  His voice was strained.  "I'm sorry, Archie."

"Don't be.  You have to obey orders.  And we'll talk before the post chaise leaves tomorrow."  He clasped Hornblower's hand tightly in his and stared deep into his friend's eyes.  "You have helped me, never doubt that.  I'll be all right, you'll see."

Edrington gave his bother a message for their mother and his fiancee, and orders to have a change of clothes sent back for both himself and Kennedy.  William and Hornblower mounted and rode from the village without looking back.

It was getting on toward midnight by the time they arrived back at Edrington manor, but everyone was still wide awake.  Lady Sarah must have heard the front door open, because she came out to the entry hall before William and Hornblower could even take one step toward the drawing room.

"William, what's happening?  Where's Hal?  And Mr. Kennedy?" she asked, her voice husky with anxiety.

The others had followed her out of the room and formed a circle around the pair.  Their faces were drawn with worry and exhaustion.  "Its all right.  They're staying in the village."  He looked toward Annie and Edward and a slight flush rose to his face.  He looked guilty as he finished the explanation.  "Reg was unconscious by the time we got there, and he won't be able to tell his side of the story for some hours yet.  Hal and Kennedy decided to stay the night so they would be close at hand when Reg is able to talk."

"They'll need a change of clothes and fresh linen.  I'll see to that."  Lady Sarah said and moved briskly to keep her word.

The dowager countess had barely spoken since the first use of the word murder, nearly three hours earlier.  Now she stepped into the void of her son's absence.  She gestured to include Edward, Annie and the Chamberlains.  "Its too late to return to your homes now.  You are all welcome to stay here for the night."  After everyone had accepted she turned to Hornblower.  "My apologies, Lieutenant.  This was supposed to be something of a celebration in your honour.  I hope you won't return to Portsmouth with any bad feelings."

Hornblower blushed, and bowed before her with his characteristic awkwardness.  "Not at all, my lady.  I'm only sorry that I was not able to enjoy more time spent in your fascinating company."

Lady Edrington laughed and poked him lightly with her cane.  "Get on with you, young man!  I'm far to old and experienced to fall for that!"

Lady Sarah came back downstairs.  "Everything is set." She glanced at her future mother-in-law.  "I anticipated that we would have overnight guests, so the maids are making up the rooms.  And I took the liberty, Mr. Hornblower, of arranging to have your things brought here from Rosefield.  I hope you don't mind."

"No, not at all." he replied.  "It saves me an extra trip on horseback."  He gave his posterior a brief pat and flashed a rueful grin.  "Horses and I do not exactly get along."


	13. Evidence

**_Evidence_**

While William and Hornblower were calming the scene back at Edrington Manor, the earl and Kennedy were being shown to their room by Gaines.  The innkeeper was profuse in his apologies about the quality of the accommodations, but since it was the only available room they didn't have very much choice.  Kennedy was amused by the muscle that jumped in Edrington's jaw; an obvious sign of a tightly controlled temper.  He thrust some coins into Gaines' hand and shut the door in his face when he would have launched into another round of apologies.

Kennedy looked around the small room.  It was on the top floor and had one small garret window.  It was stifling hot.  "I've slept in worse." he said, shrugging philosophically.

Edrington pushed the window open before turning to survey the room.  "So have I, but at this particular moment I can't exactly remember when.  Or where."  He tossed his hat and cloak onto one of the beds - pallets, really - and sat in the only chair.  His shoulders slumped forward and he looked suddenly smaller and less commanding.  When he lifted his face he looked very young and there was anguish in his eyes.

"Now I know how my father felt." he said with a brief flash of a smile.  "Archie, I would ignore this whole mess if I could, but its gone beyond that now.  Surely you can see that?"

For a moment Kennedy was too astonished to speak.  "Are you mad, Hal?  This is murder we're talking about!  Nobody can ignore that, not for me, and certainly not for my brother."  He threw himself down on his pallet and propped his head on his hand.  "If these people are depending on you to see that justice carries the day, than that is what you must do."

"Is that truly what you want?" Edrington asked.  "Its liable to get pretty ugly before it gets better, Archie.  Can you handle it?"

Kennedy sighed deeply.  "I don't know. I won't know until I'm faced with it.  But I have to know the truth; for my sister, for my father, and for myself."

"Then I would suggest we at least try to get some sleep." Edrington said.  "It will probably look a whole lot worse in the morning, but we can face it then."  He blew out the candle stub that had been providing light, and the soft summer darkness descended on the room.

Out of that darkness came Kennedy's voice.  "Really, Edrington. Could you please keep your rampageous optimism under control?"

 A derisive snort and a brief chuckle were the only response.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The next morning breakfast was delivered by one of the maids.  It was simple; bread with butter and strawberry preserves, and a pot of tea.  Kennedy was ravenously hungry after the night's excitement.  He barely noticed when Edrington pushed his portion across the table.

"I don't know how you can eat." he said, taking a sip of his tea.  "It makes me sick to my stomach just thinking about it."

Kennedy swallowed a mouthful before replying.  "It won't do anybody any good if we starve." he said complacently.  "I learned that while I was a prisoner."

"I suppose you're right." Edrington sighed and took a bite.

"Of course I'm right!"  He grinned.  "Aren't I always?"

Edrington glowered.  "Don't push it, Archie!"

Kennedy sobered then.  "Hal, what will happen if Reg can't remember what happened, or if..."  He swallowed and forced himself to say it.  "Or if he confesses?"

Edrington pushed his chair away from the table and stood at the window.  "I'm no expert, Archie, but from what we've heard thus far I would say that a charge of murder is a bit excessive.  One fact is glaringly obvious: this man was killed in what was by all accounts a fair fight.  That hardly constitutes murder."  A knock sounded at the door.  "Either way, we're about to find out."

Kennedy opened the door to reveal Gaines on the threshold.  The man looked as if he had aged ten years overnight.  Archie ruefully acknowledged that murder done on your doorstep could have that effect.  Without a word he and Edrington followed the older man down the steps and out into the sun-drenched morning.

When they reached the green Gaines finally spoke.  "Bodkin is waiting for us, my lord, as is Colonel Mathers."

Edrington's smooth, even stride broke and he briefly stumbled.  Kennedy reached out a hand to steady his friend while Gaines continued ahead.  "What's the matter?" Kennedy asked.  "You look like you've been kicked in the stomach."

Edrington had recovered himself and they proceeded toward the icehouse.  When he answered the question it was in a low voice for his companion's ears alone.  "Colonel Mathers is the matter.  He is as unscrupulous an individual as I have ever come across.  I've seen his idea of justice before; he'd much rather go with the speedy solution than get at the truth.  Why the devil did he have to come here himself?"

"But who exactly is he?"

"The district militia commander." Edrington sneered.  "Militia! Bah!  That's a glorified term for Mathers' men.  Nothing but thugs in uniform!  He also happens to be the sheriff."

Kennedy would have liked to find out more, but they had arrived at the icehouse by then.  Gaines stood there with Bodkin, looking appropriately hangdog as well as hungover.  With them was an imperiously tall gentleman dressed in an impeccable uniform.  Until that moment Kennedy had always considered Edrington to be the epitome of parade ground polish, but his friend paled in comparison to the sartorial splendor of Colonel Mathers.  When he swept of his hat Kennedy received another surprise - the colonel was as bald as the proverbial egg.

He nodded once to acknowledge their arrival.  "Edrington." he said in a chilly voice.

Never one to be outdone in aristocratic hauteur, Edrington's voice was ice cold when he responded.  "Mathers."  Kennedy noted that he didn't salute the older man.  "This is Acting Lieutenant Archibald Kennedy, of His Majesty's Frigate Indefatigable."

Kennedy winced at the use of his full name but otherwise showed no reaction.  He was determined to be just as cool and unaffected as the two army officers were.

Mathers looked him up and down, his opinion all but written on his face.  Admittedly, he didn't present much of a picture.  Dressed in his second-best uniform, with his hair hanging loose, he was hardly the ideal image of an earnest young naval officer.  But he stood quietly under the scrutiny, consciously mimicking Captain Pellew's posture.

"A relative of the accused?"  The sudden question jolted Kennedy out of his stillness.

"His brother." Edrington replied.  He overrode the objection Mathers had been about to make.  "And as such perfectly within his rights to be here."

Mathers recognized the moment that Edrington changed from major to earl, and let it go.  "Let's get on with this." he snarled, yanking the door open and disappearing into the gloom of the icehouse.  Bodkin followed behind like a whipped dog.

Kennedy took a step toward the door, but was stopped by Edrington's hand on his elbow.  "Archie, no matter what happens in there keep a tight rein on your temper.  You are an observer, nothing more.  Let me handle this."

Reg was conscious but bleary-eyed when they arrived on the scene.  He gave his brother one hateful glance and then studiously ignored him.  Kennedy hung back from the circle, aware of the tension that was palpable in the air, and determined to follow Edrington's instructions and simply observe.

Colonel Mathers took charge of the questioning.  Right away it was clear that, as Edrington had said, Mathers preferred the easy answer to ferreting out the truth.  Kennedy was moved on a couple of occasions to protest, but a warning glance from the earl made him clench his jaw shut.

"I didn't kill the man."  Reg's voice sounded sullen and flat, as if he didn't really care what would happen to him.

"You were beside the body.  With blood on your sleeve."  Mathers caught the material and waved Reg's right arm about.  "What other possible explanation could there be?"

"Did you see what happened, Mr. Kennedy?"  Edrington's quiet and even voice was a stark contrast to the colonel's confrontational attitude, and Reg responded to that.  He sat up a little straighter and made an attempt to make his clothes more seemly.

"No. I didn't see anything."  His brow furrowed as he concentrated; trying to remember.  "It was getting dark, and there were just so many people milling around.  I really couldn't tell."

"What about the argument?"  Mathers' voice lashed like a whip.  Reg looked confused, and Mathers continued, getting angrier by the minute.  "We have witnesses who saw you and this man..."  He snapped his fingers at Bodkin.

"Chambers, sir." Bodkin piped in.

"You and this man Chambers arguing in the tavern.  Everyone says you were outraged at something, and that the discussion turned into a physical fight!  So why did you kill him?"

"Actually, the witnesses said there were at least eight people involved in the argument." Edrington said, again quiet and unassuming.  "And those same witnesses said that all those people took part in the ensuing brawl."

Mathers gave the earl a withering look, but it had no effect.  With one last look at Reg and a gesture to Bodkin to remain, he stormed out of the icehouse without a backward glance.

Edrington glanced at Kennedy with a raised right eyebrow before following.  Kennedy shook his head ruefully.  I bet he perfected that expression in his lordly cradle, he said to himself as he trailed along behind.  He stepped out into the sunlight and right into a heated argument.

"I can not understand your concern in this matter Edrington."  Mathers was railing upon Kennedy's arrival.  "But since you have, shall we say 'inserted' yourself into the matter, the least you can do is face the facts!"

Edrington's temper flared, much to his friend's surprise.  "Oh, by all means, lets face the facts.  But perhaps you'd do me the courtesy, Mathers, of facing ALL of the facts.  Not just the ones that are convenient to your interpretation of events!"  He began ticking off on his fingers as he spoke.  "One, we have a dead body with a knife in its back.  That is hardly in dispute.  Two, Reginald Kennedy was seen kneeling beside that dead body.  Three, Reg had blood on the sleeve of his coat."  He glanced at Kennedy.  "Have I left anything out?" he asked, sarcasm and anger giving his voice a harsh edge.

"Only that my brother was not in the habit of carrying a knife." Kennedy replied.

Mathers glared scornfully at Kennedy.  "That hardly makes any difference.  He could have had the knife in his possession without your knowledge.  He could have bought it in the village earlier that day!  There were any of a dozen ways that he could have come to have that knife in his hand!  And how else did the blood get on his sleeve, if he didn't stab the man?"

Edrington snorted.  "Were you looking at the same man I was?" he asked, gesturing to the icehouse door.  "He had a bloody nose and a split lip!  The blood could be his own for all we know!  Never mind the fact that the knife was still in the wound; I imagine it hardly bled at all under those circumstances."

"Oh really?"  Mathers' voice was withering.  "And just how much medical knowledge do you base that opinion on?"

Kennedy leapt into the fray at that point.  "Any man who has seen battle can tell you that it is only when the sword or bayonet is withdrawn that the victim bleeds profusely.  But then, you've not seen very many deaths in battle, have you Colonel?"  The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Mathers turned purple, his mouth gaping open like a landed fish.  "Bodkin!" he bellowed once before he whirled and marched away.

Bodkin emerged from the icehouse, and with a chagrined glance at the pair he followed in Colonel Mathers' wake.

"Oh dear!" Kennedy exclaimed as a blush climbed his cheeks.  "That didn't come out right."

Edrington burst out laughing at that point.  "Oh Lord, Archie!  That was absolutely priceless!"  He gasped for breath.  "I've been waiting years to see somebody take Mathers down a peg!  I'd bet the entire estate that the overstuffed prig never expected it from an Acting Lieutenant in His Majesty's Navy!"

"I'm so glad that one of us is amused."  He looked at Edrington, who was struggling to get his mirth under control.  "You heard the colonel.  He thinks Reg is guilty, and nothing you or I might say will change his mind."

"No, he won't change his mind.  But lucky for us, and your brother, he's not the magistrate."  The creak of the icehouse door caused them to turn.  "Is he to be held in custody, Gaines?"

"Yes, my lord.  Colonel Mathers' orders."  Gaines looked uncomfortable at the thought.

Edrington nodded.  "Good.  At least we know he'll be safe there."  He met Gaines' eyes.  "Keep an eye on matters for me, Gaines.  I want to be alerted immediately if anything odd happens.  Do you understand?"  Without waiting for an acknowledgment he went on.  "When is the magistrate due back in this area?"

"Four days, my lord."

"Excellent.  We should have matters resolved by then."  His gaze was piercing.  "Don't forget, Gaines; anything, and I mean anything, odd, let me know as soon as possible."  And on that note they made their way to the livery stable to reclaim the horses.

Their pace on the way back to the manor was much more sedate than the previous night's headlong gallop to the village, and Kennedy's protesting muscles were grateful for it.  They were both lost in thought, and it wasn't until they were halfway home that Kennedy spoke up.

"What was all that about, Hal?"

"All what?"

"That 'anything odd' business.  What is it you expect will happen?" Kennedy's voice was slightly worried.

Edrington sighed and reined in to a stop.  He crossed his arms on the pommel.  "I don't 'expect' anything to happen, Archie.  But I know Mathers, and I wouldn't put any skullduggery passed him and his militia."

Kennedy was aghast.  "You surely don't think they'll simply take Reg....  Without a trial?  That would be..."  Kennedy's mind balked at the thought; he couldn't conceive of any word adequate enough for such wickedness.

Edrington flashed his familiar rueful grin.  "Yes, it would be.  But I've seen it before.  When I was twelve years old a traveling peddler came to town and got mixed up in a similar situation.  Without waiting for the magistrate or anything as formal as a trial, Mathers let the mob have the man.  They hanged him."  Kennedy gasped and would have interrupted, but Edrington plowed forward with the story.  "Mind you, Mathers never officially turned the man over, and he wasn't present at the hanging, but my father never doubted that the colonel was involved in the whole mess.  He just could never prove it."

Sudden comprehension dawned in Kennedy's face.  "That's what you meant last night when you said you knew how your father felt!  But surely he would never consider such an action in this case!  I mean, Reg is the son of a respected gentlemen."

"Yes, he is.  But will you father do anything to protect, or even defend him?" Edrington asked.

Kennedy's face fell.  "I don't know." he answered quietly.  "I don't know anything anymore. But if what we were talking about yesterday is true, he may be content to let Reg rot.  I couldn't say."

"You're worried."

"Of course I'm worried! Bloody hell!  Who wouldn't be?  My brother charged with murder, my father struggling against his own demons, my sister trying to balance everything and not upset anybody..."  He ran out of breath and rubbed his face with one hand.  "I'm beginning to think I should have just stayed in that Spanish prison.  The world is a lot simpler when you're locked away from it."  He smiled slightly.  "I'm also really starting to miss my mother.  She'd know what to do, and what to stay, to keep the family together."  His voice caught on the final word.

Edrington had been looking away, but brought his eyes back to his friend then.  Kennedy's turmoil was writ large across his face.  He reached out and placed a hand gently on the younger man's shoulder.  "We'll figure it out, Archie.  You can count on that."

"What if we don't find the answer we expect?" Kennedy asked.

"As long as its the truth, it won't be the wrong answer."  Edrington grinned.  "I know that sounds like a worthless platitude, but it seems appropriate to the situation.  But are you sure you can handle it, no matter what happens?"

Kennedy nodded, a determined expression on his face.  "I'm not backing down now.  I have to know the truth.  It may hurt..."  He laughed outright.  "Oh, be honest Archie!  It will more than likely hurt, but it has to be done."  He took a deep breath and exhaled on a gusty sigh.  "So shall we proceed?"

Both men urged their horses forward and continued on their way.  They rode in companionable silence for a few moments before a soft chuckle caught Edrington's ear.  He gave his friend a questioning glance.

"I was just thinking how upset Horatio will be at leaving in the middle of things."  He laughed again.  "He denies it, but I know he enjoys the excitement of a battle.  And this certainly has the makings of an epic one!"

They both laughed at that, but then Edrington suddenly pulled up.  "Oh my God!  Hornblower!" And without another word they both spurred their horses to a gallop.


End file.
